You haven’t heard me talk much about my native Earth. That was the version the Cheshire spaceship orbited in her government service. I sprung into existence in the Cheshire spaceship’s engine room, as the vessel hung in a Lagrange point within that Earth’s vicinity. She was my Mother. Initially, I had thought the otherworldly Earths were far more interesting.

But after a while of world hopping, I’d descend down to Her often, within various periods of my Thunderbird journey. To truly understand its center, I’d spend long spans of Earth time. Some lasted from birth into adulthood.

On one of these existential occasions, I had bore into that world during its version of the early 1980s. I was newborn life within a family down on the ground. At that time, I was substantially removed from anything of antiquity. Predeluvian even. I wanted to know who built the pyramids, and what were they actually for. Did extraterrestrials exist among men in the legendary city state of Atlantis?

These were all wonders of my native world. I’d occupy Earthly existences as nobodies on this peculiar planet. In one life, I enjoyed utter obscurity navigating terrestrial tribulations. The people in this life didn’t miss me much, when I finally leapt off Earth, into the multiverse movierain, where I surfed to find more sophisticated versions and return to my true home on the Cheshire.

My timeline was indelible to the ticking clock of this origin Earth. I aged along with Her. She bore me and raised me. She nurtured me into the enlightened being that would eventually transcend Her gravity, into higher realms. She always held a special place in my heart. She was my heart. And I Her child.

Still, after that night I initially leapt, I could never return home. For me to continue as a Thunderbird, She had to forget me.

---

I say I could never return as a euphemism. “You can never return home,” as an old adage means when you do return to your place of birth, both you and it are different. It doesn’t contain the same feeling, as it did in your youth. That’s what I meant, when I said I could never return to my home Earth.

I returned often. I’d pick up where I left off, for a seamless re-entry point to this home Earth. I’d stay a while on these return trips, and continue my investigation of this mysterious place.

You see, the problem with my human civilization is that we languished as a species with amnesia. It was as if, long ago, in a forgotten time, an advanced civilization developed the profound capability to leave this world by bending the very space-time that housed it. The ancients built stargates and leapt through them into distant realities, I would later discover about my home Earth. Then, they locked the door, buried the key and extinguished all memory of these cellar portals from the common lexicon. Mass amnesia cast its shadow across the complete human purview.

At the time I was born on Earth, the predominant language was English. Even when I visited adjacent Earth versions, they usually carried this criteria—English speaking, and of an antedeluvian world, where its human species are unaware of their true origins.

I rewound the clock, traveling back in time like leaping worlds in reverse. Traveling back in time is not unlike leaping dimensions. You have to navigate its branches like descending downward on a tree, until you reach its trunk. I was in hot pursuit of this common origin root that sprung open with splitting branches of English-speaking worlds all with amnesia of their true ancestors.

This string of English-speaking Earths I coined the thin blue ribbon. It was truly a sliver of all possible Earths, but it was the verse with which I was most concerned. They all contained the Pyramids at Giza, Gunung Padang, and the ancient Mayan ruins in Mexico.

Those monuments acted as effective time stamps as I rewound the clock. I traveled well before the Great Flood. Still the Pyramids stood. I plunged further backward until I reached the builders of these world wonders.

They weren’t human. Their civilization was also far more advanced than anything from our modern era. They levitated 100-ton megalithic stones by manipulating soundwaves. And gently and precisely they placed each stone to fit perfectly, until they reached the apex of giant pyramids piercing the sky.

The pyramids weren’t tombs. They tapped into an entirely antiquated and forgotten technology that accessed the natural electromagnetivity of the Earth. Savvy operators could broadcast signals around the globe from the focal point of such megalithic prisms that drew from piezoelectric energy. They also acted as 4th-dimensional markers for those traversing adjacent dimensions of Earth and required reference points. Ultimately, these impressive monuments would remain as the sole proof that such an advanced civilization ever graced this Earth.

They stood the test of time to remind our forgetful civilization that giants were real. The Bible got that one right. These magnamimous specimens towered over humans, but lived alongside them just the same. Whenever the two species tangled, you can imagine how those unfortunate events went.

---

One thing I should probably tell you about Earth versions is that multiple Earths can exist adjacently, as a quadrangle on some oscillation of near possible Earths. That’s why the Universal Union of Planets and Galaxies (UU) didn’t look too closely into multiple Earth versions. The establishment just shrugged off those varietals as some kind of blurred outcome from extradimensional travel. The Earth, to them was just held in superposition, like a subatomic particle waiting in the wave form to drop down into a finite definition. That wave function, though, would exist as one overall Earth, complete with every dream and wish of its many inhabitants over time.

The true answer for the Earth oscillations was far more profound. Every vibration of the planet radiated out a new version. These all represented distinct universes amidst an impossibly huge multiverse.

My home world existed in one quadrangle of where the Cheshire had hitched Her cosmic anchor to the Lagrange point. At least, that’s how I came to rediscover this fundamental truth. In higher reality, the Cheshire had hung out there in space long before I ever incarnated on that Earth physically. And would be there well after I leapt off planet.

This fact served as my mantra during lives spent too long down on the ground, whenever I’d almost forget the highest Truth: my true self was sat on the Cheshire spaceship high above in space of this Earth’s orbit, quietly meditating on my physical form. From this baseline vantage point, I had always been up on the spaceship meditating, and would always be there. This incantation was like a prayer that linked me to my true home above.

That’s how I was able to leap up to the ship from my home world below, when trivial details of the pedestrian existence weighed me down. I remembered that these humdrum points were ultimately inconsequential to my eternal soul. My terrestrial self’s past was just a collage of memories that played continually in my mind’s eye to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground.

But all that really existed was this present moment; the past was illusory and the future imagined. The present was real… and so was the fact that I had always been up on the Cheshire meditating as my energetic self concentrating on this current physical existence. And, as far as this physical Earth version was concerned, I would always be up there, meditating. The Cheshire held my Drop, where I sat peacefully in the lotus position and achieved zen.

So long as I remembered this, no random triviality would sway me.

---

“Oh ya, remember this guy, in the background?” Josh said.

I’d check in, clandestinely, on my former friends from this terrestrial life. Josh was looking through some old photographs with Kelly. And they’d come across some shots where I had photobombed.

“Whatever happened to him?” Kelly said, mustering a vague recollection of my former Earthly presence. “What was his name again?”

“I think it was Bill,” Josh replied. “He’s in a lot of these photos, but I don’t have one solid memory of him. It’s been so long, plus he always seemed to fade into the background like a wallflower.”

Josh was right. I had never made much of a name for myself on this Earth originally. That’s what made it so easy to leap up to the higher reality, unfettered and with no regrets. I had known people in my former Earthly existence. And they had barely acknowledged me. It made for a clean break.

The strategic anonymity also provided the perfect re-entry points into this home Earth. And I could continue my stay on this planet periodically with little to no ripple effects every time I’d return.

---

When you leave a planet to attend higher truths, the same planet feels small upon return. Its daily struggles seem negligible compared to what you know exists above. So I didn’t mind losing touch with former colleagues like Josh or Kelly. I’d return often, but never the same twice. In fact, each successive land would reveal in me an entity more and more enlightened. Anonymity, then, became a necessity.

Still, I returned often to continue my studies of this home world. Over this planet’s time, the inhabitants eventually forgot me completely. The little blue dot in this obscure solar system soon became an island retreat for me, as a full-fledged Thunderbird. And even in this perfect solitude, I never succumbed to loneliness. I welcomed it. In the most solitary of moments, I’d repeat my mantra quietly to myself. No matter how separate an extended stay would make me feel, seemingly stranded down on home Earth, the warm light of the highest Truth hummed brightly in my heart of hearts.

My energetic self and my fellow Cheshire crew hanging high up in the ether of Earth would always be there waiting for my current consciousness to return. I kept my frequency attuned to this divine sound, vibrating as above, I navigated the world below.

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If you liked this short story, you might like the novel, “Big Cat.” The book is Bill Thunderbird’s journal in transcending human existence into a higher Order. Upon achieving Thunderbirdhood, Bill embarks on countless journeys exploring versions of Earth. The above tale is about his home world.

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