Hovercraft

Jade Miller
5 min readSep 3, 2022

I’m still in the process of whatever kind of awakening this is. I still don’t really know what’s going on, but I’m starting to get a vision of what this is about and what I might be supposed to do with it. But more on that later. :)

Here is an analogy for what I have gathered. Of course it has to be a little bit simplistic. There’s a lot more detail and nuance to it than this. But this is to help explain to people who have perhaps never heard of anything I’m talking about, or have waded in but have gotten confused.

Imagine that you are a beautiful, intricate hovercraft; you have limitless capabilities and you spend your days flitting throughout galaxies, visiting planets and stars, seeing and doing wondrous things. You are part of a family of hovercrafts among many galaxies of hovercrafts; they don’t all look the same or work the same but they are all magnificent. You are at one with everything that is, and you have never known any other state of being. It is an amazing existence.

But over time, eventually, you all get bored with this. As hovercrafts, you are intimately familiar with every experience a hovercraft can have. There is nothing new to experience. You’ve seen it all, done it all, known it all.

So you devise a challenge for yourselves; a game, if you want to call it that. You decide to completely take yourself apart and rearrange yourself into a vintage automobile. There is only one planet that could adequately contain your parts, so you have to do this challenge on a beautiful little planet called Earth.

First go: as soon as you assemble yourself on Earth into a vintage automobile, you realize/remember/know that you’re a hovercraft, your parts automatically rearrange themselves and bam, you’re out of the game. Oops. That was quick.

Okay, you need to come up with a way to keep yourself inside your game longer. You tinker with your game and make it so that you forget you’re a hovercraft as soon as you assemble yourself on Earth. Second go: as soon as you assemble yourself, you still have access to every experience in the now moment that you’ve ever had, it sparks your realization/ remembrance and bam, you’re out of the game. Oops.

You tinker with it more and add to the memory loss a construct that will create the illusion of distance between every experience you’ve had, so that each experience seems to have happened on specific plot points on a linear progression. This time you assemble yourself on Earth with no prior memory and the illusion of past/present/future. You enjoy being an automobile but because you are in perfect unity with your environment, you manifest everything immediately, which allows you to remember/wish yourself out of the game and bam, you’re out of the game.

Final go. You add to the memory loss and the linear construct an onboard computer (ego) that will filter everything you experience through a subjective lense so that everything is categorized as good for me or bad for me. The lense is built by the things you experience in your earliest moments and years as an automobile. This time you assemble yourself on Earth, you enter the construct of time, and you do not naturally experience unity with all things; you have deeply embodied the automobile. You believe you are an automobile, you’ve always been an automobile, there is no other option or experience possible, and you now have the limitations (you’ve placed upon yourself) of an automobile. You can now experience something different.

This seems to have worked.

Your challenge is to experience things from a different perspective but in order to do that, the constructs of the game by necessity make it so that you don’t remember that you’re playing a game, or that you’re something else other than a player, or that you’re actually part of a whole galactic family of game players.

This is what a lot of humans are doing.

On this planet, for humans, “healing” has become about fixing the damage to the automobile, and reprogramming their computer. While those things are helpful to this experience, and not without value, being overly concerned about the problems and events in a game that you designed for yourself — as something greater than any game — can actually cause you to miss the point entirely, which is to experience, feel, and understand.

An evolved ego, while hopefully less reactive and more peaceful than an unevolved one, is nevertheless still an ego. And ego isn’t bad. While on Earth we aren’t ever going to completely escape it altogether, and I don’t think we’re meant to; it’s part of the experience, and it comes with our “equipment,” so to speak. But it has to be understood for what it is, and not allowed to run the show.

You came to experience a different viewpoint. You came to work this puzzle of experience and eventual return to original form, whether through the process of remembering while still on Earth or by exiting the game. But while you are doing that, the realization that it is a game can help keep things from becoming heavier than they were ever meant to be. It can restore the perspective needed to keep experiences here, particularly for those who have had struggles and trauma, from ruining everything.

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Jade Miller

Survivor, bestselling author, peer worker. I help people who experience life as more than one person sharing the same body.