An Out-of-Body Experience: Journal, Justin-Ames Gamache

It was an experience that defied logic, something I could scarcely put into words an out-of-body phenomenon where I existed in two places at once. In one moment, I was aware of myself, my surroundings, and my physical body, and yet, simultaneously, I was outside of it, hovering, detached, and observing. What followed was both surreal and unsettling, a dance between dimensions that left me both awestruck and shaken.

The sensation began subtly, like a gradual drift away from my physical being. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it violent. It was as if a tether connecting my essence to my body had momentarily slackened. I could see myself below, lying motionless, and at first, there was no fear just fascination. I was weightless, unbound by the constraints of flesh and bone. The world felt still, yet vibrant, as though I were attuned to something far greater than the ordinary human experience.

But then, the tranquility began to unravel. I became acutely aware of a dissonance, a tension in the very air surrounding me. My body my physical body was shaking. It wasn’t a subtle quiver, but a deep, rhythmic trembling that seemed to reverberate through my detached consciousness. The shaking wasn’t something I could control, and I was overwhelmed with the urge to return, to reunite my spirit with the vessel I had always called home.

As I attempted to move closer, to "re-enter" my body, the sensation of shaking grew more pronounced. It felt as though I were trying to fit into a space that was resisting me. There was a tangible pull, almost like an invisible barrier pushing back as I struggled to bridge the gap. It was during this struggle that I became aware of another presence intangible but undeniable.

A female voice, distinct and clear, pierced through the surreal haze. "Stay where you are," she said, her tone calm yet commanding. It wasn’t a suggestion; it felt like an order. Her voice carried an otherworldly quality, as though it came from a place far beyond the realm of ordinary sound. I couldn’t see her, but I felt her presence deeply. It wasn’t malicious, but it was firm, as though she were guarding something sacred.

Despite her words, I knew I couldn’t stay where I was. The pull to return was instinctual, almost primal. It wasn’t just a desire it was a necessity. I had to return, to anchor myself back into my body, no matter how difficult or disorienting it felt. Each attempt to reunite was met with resistance, as though my body itself were hesitant to accept me. The shaking intensified, as did the sensation of being poked sharp, deliberate, as if trying to jolt me back into place.

It wasn’t immediate, but after what felt like an eternity, I finally succeeded. There was a sudden snap, a rush of energy, and I was back. My body felt heavy, grounded, and profoundly real. The shaking subsided, leaving behind a lingering sense of awe and exhaustion. Whatever had happened, it was over but the memory of that otherworldly moment, and the voice that told me to stay, will remain etched in my mind forever.