My Primordial Memory

I have, and have always had, a memory that is my oldest memory. I’ve never quite known whether it’s rooted in real experience, or is merely my first dream that I can remember. Or maybe it’s even before that.

In the memory, I’m a small child. I’m lying in a room, sleeping, a canopy of stars overhead. There are skylight style windows in the darkened room, allowing the stars to shine through. I awaken, staring at the bright stars flickering in the distance. All the majesty of the universe is twinkling before me.

I’m laying on a blanket on a hard floor. The room feels cold, but the blanket provides warmth. To the right of me is my father, sleeping. To the left of me is my mother, sleeping.

I watch as the stars dance with each other and feel a deep sense of mystery at the unknown. This continues for a bit, but then, a feeling of anxiety begins to creep in. I no longer feel safe.

Clouds gather in the far off distance, millions of miles away, within the starry galaxy in front of me. An ancient far off storm begins. The universe feels like it has hit some kind of threshold and is now about to break.

As I watch, the storm moves closer and closer and closer. Clouds form in my immediate view. Thunder and lighting begin their call and response. My parents continue sleeping next to me, unaware. The room begins to get darker and darker as the clouds are shut out.

I no longer feel safe. The storm continues to increase and I hear the rain falling on the skylights overhead. It’s the first real moment that I get a sense of what danger is. A sense that life is fragile and that this menacing storm is an immediate threat.

I try to wake my parents. Both are fast asleep. Neither respond, they just lightly snore next to me. The rain increases, the room gets darker and darker as the clouds continue to form, lighting and thunder trading off in front of me.

It’s finally fully black. I can’t see anything. I lay awake, breathing heavily, scared. And then the memory stops.

I’ve never really known what to make of this memory. But I can tell you it’s real. When I search my mind for my oldest conceivable memory, this one has come up since I could first start recalling memories.

I sometimes like to think that maybe this was my experience of being born. I don’t really know. But that makes the most sense to me.

I have no idea if multiple lifetimes exist. If reincarnation exists. But this memory does at least make me contemplate that.