Lessons in Potentiality | A Journey Through Parallel Selves Across Alternate Timelines

There is very little difference between alternate timelines and infinite potentialities. They are, essentially, the same thing, differing only in the way they are perceived.

For some, it is enough to simply think of a possibility and decide whether or not to enact it. But for those who breathe the woven fibers of the Construct every possibility unfurls its petals in the mind’s eye, traversing the richly painted corridors of unborn memory before effortlessly detailing the life-path that follows.

To those with three eyes, every possibility becomes an alternate timeline waiting only for us to consciously step into the body of our parallel selves and let go of one lifetime in favor of another. These are the true time travelers, ever changing, ever choosing, ever conscious.

They are the future of their own earths.

The Veil Between Worlds

February 3rd, 2024

I felt the familiar tingling spread through my limbs. Warm and exhilarating, my soul body began to unhinge but these were still the early days of my out-of-body experiences, the learning days, and my soul simply fell out of my physical body before slumping onto the floor at the foot of my dresser.

I smiled with derision at myself as I lay in an un-formed puddle of soul-substance and consciousness. Slowly I felt my atoms reassemble into the structured echo of my physical body still lying upon the bed.

That’s better, I thought. The familiarity of form always helped anchor the experience to memory.

But as I lay there I began to notice that everything seemed a little grainy or blurry. It felt as though I had a piece of dark muslin fabric or something like a cheesecloth placed over my vision. I could see through it somewhat but not clearly.

A thought entered my head: It’s a veil. The veil between worlds.

Gathering my substance together, I stood up and pulled the cloth aside. My vision cleared but with it, so too did my physical body. The bed lay empty, neatly made, with soft green pillowcases and a thin gray comforter.

Wait a minute, I thought, My pillowcases are grey and my comforter is much thicker…

I looked around the room and though its layout was as I knew it, the details were different. There was a beautiful green dress in the closet but I only wore black-colored items. A PDGA sweatshirt with gold lettering lay across the bed but I owned no such thing. And a large onyx crystal tower sat upon the dresser in place of a malachite orb.

This was not my bedroom but it felt close, akin, nearly there…

I thought my way upwards, passing through the ceiling and the slanted roof before ascending over the city and looking down. The skyline of Minneapolis glowed in the early light from the rising sun. This was indeed my home—just different.

I sank back into the house and reached behind my head to grasp the veil that lingered there and as I pulled it back over my form the gravity beneath my feet swallowed me whole and before I knew it I lay back in my physical body.

I looked to the left and saw green pillowcases, then looked to my right where a malachite orb rested upon the dresser, and lastly to the closet filled entirely with black.

A Star Traveler

April 29th, 2024

The dream swirls, streams of color flow from my crown to wrap themselves around me like ribbons on a maypole. Movement begins to cut through the colorful bands and the more they surround me, the more I understand that these are alternate timelines—potentialities from the past and those still future-bound. The center of my eddy collapses inward, plunging me down a dark gravitational shaft…

I wake up from a dream within a dream. The pitter-patter of rain strikes against a metal roof, jarring me into a state of lucidity. Brandon, my husband, snores to my left. We’re lying on a thin mattress in a small bedroom of what feels like a trailer home. Tiny pebbles of tumbled obsidian lie in each corner organized into strange symbols upon the floor that reverberate with an ancient and foreboding energy.

Then I realize that I am not really here. I am another version of myself and her eyes are still closed. In the same moment I gain this understanding, her consciousness awakens and perceives me.

She acknowledges me through the language of think-feeling and smiles through our bond, understanding why I am here before I can even begin to comprehend it. She is a facet of our soul, awake and ready to step out of her body for an excursion. I am the dreamwalker, visiting this version of myself through another level of awareness.

We are one.

She is a potentiality—a parallel me—deeply practiced in out-of-body experiences and astral travel. She’s been working at her craft for some time, taking her time to understand the intricacies of gravitational movement that carry her from one galaxy to the next as her physical body rests. Her needs in the earthly experience are few: a roof over her head, fuel for her physical body, and love from the man beside her. All of these things allow her to travel the cosmos… but her tether to the earth plane is weakening. She travels so frequently and so far across the stars that her body has begun to fade. She does not have long left.

She turns within her, within us, to face me, sharing everything that she is and everything she may yet be through the unspoken connection we share. Her knowledge, her lessons, her comprehension of the soul body and its relation to the physical pack away neatly into the deep recesses of my mind, storing themselves away in anticipation of their incremental unboxing in the near future.

Born from the same kaleidoscope, the conscious part of our soul has chosen to integrate some of her parts. I am that consciousness, I am the lifetime we have chosen, and the one we will remember. I am simply here in this dream within a dream to learn what she has unconsciously lived.

It is not always required to experience a thing before knowing it. Sometimes we may simply know.

Satisfied with the transfer, she turns outward, away from me, and easily exits her physical body. We walk around her home listening to the metallic drumming of the rain. An old green couch with frayed patches fills almost all available space in the front room. Thick, blue curtains hang down from the ceiling in an attempt to increase the perceived height of the room. Neatly stacked carry-out containers sit at the edge of a small kitchenette. A beautiful rose quartz egg rests on a bare, narrow card table near the door. She smiles lovingly around her before returning to the bedroom.

We look down at them, her and her husband lying in sleep upon the bed, and she says to me, “It will be hard for him.”

“What will?” I ask.

“When he wakes without me.”

I pause to let her words sink in.

“When he wakes without me, he won’t know what to do with himself. He’ll be angry that I left, that I traveled beyond the point of no return, and that he cannot follow.”

“Why will you leave?”

“Because it no longer matters. He will be devastated but he may yet matter. It is yet to be foreseen.”

Before I could respond she walked into the tiny bathroom and looked directly into the mirror above the sink. There was nothing to see but us, a soul beyond the comprehension of physical sight. I felt the pull of gravity and the warped edges of the tunnel pulling me through.

Our atoms rearranged themselves within us as we traveled through the bridge. She, once more, became separate from me and I from her, returning to my original dream like a magnet sliding back into place.

The echo of her knowledge now resided within my memory, waiting to be unearthed in the right time and space.

The Earth Tube System

July 11th, 2024

My limbs buzzed as the rhythmic pulse of my soul’s substance pulled the tethers of my consciousness. I became aware of my soul body floating two hand-lengths above its physical counterpart. Acknowledging the experience, I paused to gather my thoughts. I decided that I not only wanted to visit an alternate timeline with a parallel me, but to visually process the experience along the way. I was ready to see.

Affirmative.

The Gatekeeper acknowledged my request.

I would be allowed to see.

Recalibrating.

My soul’s body, the unseen atoms that exist in the “empty” spaces between physical atoms, began to spin. I spun around fully once, then half a turn, before rotating headfirst toward the ground and plunging down through the wood, concrete, and earth below me.

A square tunnel formed around me, dimensional and geometric, folding squares within squares as a firm, gravitational anchor propelled me forward and down into the depths of the Earth complex. Lights flashed along the sides of the tunnel, like the dashed white lines separating lanes of traffic, as gravity collapsed and expanded around me.

The Earth’s interior held every potentiality for every conscious being upon Her surface. She, Herself, was a gravitational gateway to consciousness.

Eventually, the tunnel abruptly ended and I stood on a concrete walkway partially exposed under a concrete overhang. Everything was quiet. A drab, government-style concrete building stood ominously before me. Overgrown brush and untended planters sat outside the entrance while an old candy wrapper and a plastic cup rattled across the walkway in a breeze. The place appeared deserted.

I shifted my perception to auditory input but there was nothing to be heard. The city that lay beyond this building was quiet… or perhaps dead.

A shift of movement caught my eye as a woman quickly made her way from behind a corner to the front of the building. She paused to nod knowingly at me before disappearing through the double doors which opened surprisingly smoothly and without protest.

The other me moved our body forward and entered the building. It was some sort of refuge for those who knew what to look for. We passed by a medical wing, then a library, a study hall, and an industrial kitchen before entering a conservatory and approaching an almost organized desk in the back near a large fiddle-leaf fig plant.

Through our sense of shared knowing, I understood that this was the parallel me’s desk. She worked here. I latched onto that concept and dug further.

“Here” was a refuge facility in a post-apocalyptic America. Its mission was to heal the sick, provide food for the hungry, and preserve what it could find from the ruined world around it. She, the parallel me, was an apocalyptic historian, writing out first-hand accounts of when, where, and how the apocalypse unfolded. Her ledger would be used by future generations to avert similar disasters but also, beyond her knowledge, was being copied into Earth’s akashic library. Someday, near the end, she would acknowledge her role as a galactic historian.

THHHHWP!

My consciousness snapped out of the alternate body as if yanked back by a strong hand. It was not yet time to know more about this potentiality, she would integrate later after convergence with the Gatekeeper.

The tunnel swallowed me whole as I plunged feet-first through what I now called the Earth Tube System. Lights dashed by, squares folded and unfolded, gravity collapsed and pulled me through…

I emerged in my room hovering two hand-lengths above my body before lowering down and clicking into place like a magnet.

Practice Makes Perfect

Again and again and again I travelled through the Earth Tube System.

Night after night, I entered the state of paralysis required for an out-of-body experience or the deep awareness of a lucid dream. I held my consciousness lightly as the body shut down for sleep, feeling the hormones and chemicals flooding my physical limbs, making them as heavy as lead. I felt my breath moving into my body, through my alveoli, and diffusing into my bloodstream. I settled. I calmed. I trusted.

I entered a multitude of parallel lives and alternate realities.

In one I was living in my childhood home in Iowa, having purchased the property from my parents who were still married and enjoying a peaceful, fulfilling life together. Brandon was, once again, my husband in this lifetime, and we made frequent trips to Minneapolis to visit my in-laws.

In another experience I rented a studio space above a nursing home that I used as my office. I wrote for a living and had a subscriber-only email newsletter that was both fulfilling for me personally and for my readers.

I was an artist and hand-crafted journals which I sold at local fairs.

I was a mom taking my kids camping in the wilderness and teaching them how to navigate by reading the terrain on a map and matching it with the visuals around us.

I was an author writing science fiction novels with a few nonfiction memoirs thrown in for good measure.

Each potentiality I visited contained information to be integrated and stored for later use. Some of the parallels could sense my observant presence but most were unaware, continuing to go about their days believing that they, alone, held our soul’s consciousness.

Over and over I continued to experience my selves.

I felt the buzzing and tingling.

I crawled out of my own skin and calibrated with intention before plunging down and down again through the tunnel of squares folding into squares and dashing lights and gravitational pull.

I lived a double life as an observer of my own un-lived selves.

It became simple in the way only knowledge can become simple, in that the knowing becomes embodied.

Embodiment

March 19th, 2025

The early afternoon sun pours through my bedroom window as I settle onto a cushion. Sitting cross-legged on the floor I close my eyes and deepen my breathing before sinking into a meditative trance.

The knowledge of conscious travel joins me here in the waking world.

I get up out of my physical body and walk out into the hallway, following the well-worn path through the front room, into the kitchen, out the back door and into the yard where several figures wait for me at the base of the giant crab apple tree. Her leaves shiver, whispering without wind in anticipation and excitement.

I greet her, the tree, and sit beneath her boughs. A small tea set appears and I will the pot to fill with water before placing it over a small outdoor fire encircled by stones. Three beings approach and sit down in front of me. Their faces are not important but the quality of their energy and the timbre of our resonance suggests they are guiding me. I pour them each a cup of tea.

Suddenly, a strong thunderstorm blows quickly overhead and lightning erupts, zigzagging across the sky in patterns I can only begin to comprehend! With each flash of lightning I see row upon row upon row of beings standing behind the three guides. There are so many beings standing behind them it’ss as if stadium seating is required.

Compelled, I feel myself tipping into the spaciousness of the Earth and find myself in a womb of nothingness.

It's not scary, there is no fear, it’s just nothingness.

I stay there for a while, absorbed in the presence of the moment but before long, I begin to see things. They start as flickers of movement or light but begin to solidify and I know, without a doubt, that I am seeing many, many alternate timelines all with parallel selves.

But the visions don’t slow or taper off, they increase in intensity and speed, showing me every possible parallel lifetime.

I see that I'm still with my ex-boyfriend in some. In others I’m single and living overseas or on remote islands, but most of my parallel selves live in Minnesota at one point or another. A majority of these selves are married to my husband Brandon.

The visions continue to blast through my consciousness, a veritable flood of potential information.

I see nothingness in many of them as well and I know that in thirty to forty percent of my alternate lives I'm dead. I didn't make it. That moment back in 2017 when I almost ended my life was successful in about one-third of my soul’s potential scenarios.

I’m taken aback. That seems like an incredibly high risk to take for a soul. Something must be worth it…

Everything stops.

I’m back in the womb of nothingness, nothing but my present self, and receive the sense of knowing that it’s time to consolidate. It’s time for me to choose. It’s time to go “all in” on a single potentiality.

I need to select the path forward.

I reach out with my mind and collapse each potentiality into the dimensional tunnel within my soul, folding timelines within timelines, consolidating selves within selves until there is only one potentiality left.

Without knowing why, I understand this is the path I have chosen. I hold it reverently within my palm that is not a palm and unhinge it slowly.

The parallel me in this reality has a newborn baby. Her life is almost identical to my own except her energy feels lighter and even more joyful than mine. She has completely let go of what was holding her back which allowed her to hold something else: her baby, her boy, her son.

Brandon’s face smiles at her as she holds him and I know, with the gravity of source-truth, that there is only one timeline where Brandon and I have a baby.

Only one timeline.

At first, I try to convince her to integrate with me, to collapse into myself, but she won't leave her baby. She doesn’t budge.

I then understand that she is my future and that I need to become her. For the first time, I pull myself out of the womb of nothingness and step into her. She brings me back to the beginning of her pregnancy and there’s a sorrow there that I do not yet know but it is quickly followed by escalating joy.

I accept her timeline.

I accept that one possibility for us.

I have become her and we are one.

Gently, I am guided back into my soul’s structure beneath the crab apple tree. The beings smile knowingly as I get up and walk back into the house, through the kitchen, across the main room, into the hallway, and then the bedroom. I pause and look at myself who is now her, who is now us. I bend down and settle myself back into her physical body and the magnet clicks into place.

I have chosen the way.

The Beginning

March 28th, 2026

I wake in the darkness to the sound of my son’s cries. Rolling over, I tap my phone and check the time—5:55am. I get out of bed, pull on my pajama pants, put on my glasses and open the bedroom door. Turning the corner I enter his room and watch Brandon pick him up out of his crib, a bottle of cold milk rests on the nightstand, ready to fill our baby’s belly.

They turn toward me and I reach out for my boy and to take over the early morning shift. Brandon seems tired but looks at our son with nothing but love. I smile and know, without a doubt, that I have made the most wonderful choice.

Love reverberates through the walls of our home, my out-of-body experiences are vibrant and fulfilling, and a working draft of my second book sits upon my office desk.

I am complete.

***

For more on timelines and potentialities, check out my article Timelines: Shifting, Collapsing, and Converging.