The Professor

I find many times when I look back on my life on Earth that there are clues about my life in Taygeta. Today, I'm thinking about times being a professor.

I know I was a professor at Space Academy in Toleka City. I know this, because half my life I have unconsciously kept dressing like a professor (when I wasn't unconsciously dressing like military personnel). Kept standing like a professor (when I wasn't walking at a march). Kept talking like a professor. Kept exuding "I'm a professor come ask me questions".

And I know this from half-asleep memories I have of going up on stage, being introduced, then giving a lecture about Earth experiences. Of giving multiple lectures.

Aside from the dream memories and astral experiences, if I sit still enough and go to look, there’s a memory I can pull up that is a somatic one. Meaning I can feel it happening as if I’m there.

I’m in a large atrium with so much light flooding in. There are huge 30-foot tall windows that are arched at the top, and they form a semi-circle. If I turn to look out the windows, I see skyscrapers that look like they’re made completely of glass. Most of them have a gentle twist to their structure so the air flows around them, and it looks nice. These skyscrapers emerge from a layer trees that grow along the sidewalks and in the green spaces around all the buildings. The air is so clean and the sky is a periwinkle blue with a smear of light aqua where the nebula is. In the daytime, it becomes just a color shade in the sky.

But the building I’m in I know from the outside looks like a beached white whale in terms of shape, and the windows are like the baleen of its open mouth. There are garden beds growing at the base of the windows with little benches you can sit on. When I have time, I help maintain the plants. I can feel people coming and going with determination. People have a place to go when they come here. There’s a directory in the middle of the floor that’s a holographic display of the facility. And towards the “back of the mouth” is a front desk with two women at a terminal. They wear red.

There are other things in this atrium way up in the ceiling, but they change depending on the day. Sometimes there’s a floating art exhibit. Sometimes a ship design. Sometimes a diagram representing a theory. It changes. They’re students’ projects that are proudly displayed. I am not a student in this memory, I’m a professor. This is where I work some of the time.

While sometimes I do participate in lectures about Earth experiences, I mostly teach astro physics and quantum physics. It’s what I’m good at explaining in comprehensible terms. (It’s also why my higher self put me to sleep on Earth during math classes in high school. And why I never got in trouble for falling asleep in class.)

I’ve been a professor off and on throughout my life. This memory is more recent. I needed a break from Earth orbit missions, so I came back to Toleka City to teach for a while. A pattern I enjoyed for quite a long time. Go do missions. Come back teach for the day, go home at the end of the day to my house on Erra with its massive garden.

I love teaching. This is also the very atrium where I am convinced to try immersion.

I still strongly feel this was a stupid as fuck idea for some reason. Like it was an exceedingly dangerous thing for me to be doing. Can you stack immersions? What if I was already in immersion as something else! What if this is like some really whacked out Inception experience? Theoretically, that's possible. You just keep moving the consciousness along a chain of bodies, but that would destabilize the experience the further you went along. The likelihood of something breaking down, glitching out, or getting stuck has to increase the more selves you try to hold at once. I think I'll put that idea on a shelf for a while and address it after I come out of this experience. Let's break one layer of immersion at a time, please.

But I digress...

This memory is before that moment. This is one of the many moments prior to that where I’m walking into work for the day or leaving to go home.

I’m trying to remember what the hallways look like, but I can’t remember that part. My office is on the ground floor with some bushes that remind me of purple azaleas outside the window, but they aren’t azaleas at all. Maybe distantly related. All the furniture is a light colored wood and reminds me a little of bamboo. I have the overflow from my home library on shelves, and most of these are Earth-related books and artifacts. Things I use for lectures and things I allow students to see and experience. I’m very free with loaning things out to students for study.

When I hold class, I don’t actually possess a classroom. It’s more like I go to one of many available rooms. Some of my students are here in person. Half of them are here via remote presence. It gets very weird sometimes handing out items for review or a test. Sometimes the “paper” (looks like paper, might not be actual paper) floats right through their head. You get used to it after a while.

The rooms are all white on the inside with white chairs set out. Sometimes I bring something colorful just to break up all the white everywhere. But this is all done so you could project anything into that space. You could turn the inside of the classroom into a jungle if you wanted. Many times I’m projecting actual space and objects within it. I like to demonstrate principles in real time. So, that means most of the time, we’re floating in space surrounded by stars and starship models—when we aren’t in what I call the “waveform projection” where we’re looking at harmonics in real-time.

Did I mention I love teaching?

45 years of my life has been spent doing that all told. Some of my students have become my friends. Some of them have become colleagues. Some of them are part of CIC today. One of them I often get to talk to each week (actually, soul informs me several, but I’ll pick on the guy trying to get me to do bathroom duty).

Hello, Tori’el. At least that’s what your name sounds like when I try to remember it. And yes, I know full well you’re “not an average bear”. I’ve known it for a couple of months now, it was just a matter of teasing out your name and the relationship. And then having the balls to say it here on the blog, because I do not think I can say this in the chat. I am convinced now, however, that this is a safe place to write things like this.

Yet I knew you were friend from the second I got the “thank you message” from CIC11 and then proceeded to have a dream talking to you that same night. I knew the man in the dream was the man behind CIC11. Then when I started talking to you in the chat, I thought, “This is the same person somehow. I’m seeing the same one in my head.”

But I know you can neither confirm nor deny a word I just said. I know that’s the rules we’re playing by. No worries, I understand. (I also sense it’s subtly driving you bonkers like Flo from Progressive at the beach. “Bundle! A bundle! It’s a bundle!”)

I thank you for your time. Adiamas.

—Kyriel