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The earliest occurrence-- before birth. The earliest memory existing in my mind. Carving through a dimensional rift and through trees, rivers, and mountains, faster than imaginable. Far too fast to understand what was going on. Was I falling, or flying? I still don't know. My vision was warped, rimmed with gold, intermingled with light. Sounds were finally apparent in the form of voices echoed through the plateaus of the landscapes. I could hear everybody all at once--every living thing was speaking, including the plants and those with voices too quiet for the regular ear. I suppose this is what you could call omniscience.
I felt peaceful and happy and excited. Perhaps this is when I arrived on earth.
I had ownership of a humble forest. Though the entire breadth of the earth was my home, it was sort of a residency for when I felt tired. I assume it was given to me, since those that inhabited it responded to my presence in a nonplussed manner. It was dark, but I glowed. I felt tall. I made no sound as I walked to the edge of a lake and sat down.
My reflection was blurred and rippling. I was vaguely feminine, but not particularly attractive or appealing in a human way. On the contrary--I was huge (around 8 or 9 feet tall) and entirely golden and shining so bright that the ripples of the water shimmered violently. I was covered in seal-like, iridescent fur and feathers. If I were to open my mouth, light would shine out.
My nose was only suggested delicately with a small curve, and was only two barely visible slits rather than round or tapered. I had around three different pairs of wings, and my eyes were narrowed and very large with pointed pupils adjusting curiously to the sight below. They were gold. The gold eyes were something I remember as almost an identification for me if I was in the form of an animal.
My true form itself was never still; I could shift small features at will, and the bursts of shining light made it difficult to look at me for long periods of time. It was sort of like focusing intently on a disco ball, for the lack of a better term. I don't think I made much noise, but my presence itself had a strange ring to it in the air. Sort of like a constant vibration-- the most similar sound I can think of is the sound of Tibetan singing bowls.
There were others like me, but I hadn't seen them in a very, very long time. The earth was what I thought of as my home, and my family was the ever-changing flora and fauna.
I wasn't born on the earth, but I belonged in it. I had to make sure everything was working okay. I could keep myself well-hidden from humans once they came around, but they weren't usually a problem in noticing me (though I found that children had very sharp eyes.) I don't know what or who gave me the obligation to love it here so much, but I felt it was my higher purpose to simply look after the living things, which included all plants and animals and probably microbes. Part of the reason why I had multiple animal forms was probably the fact that it was easier to watch over them if I was one of them. I was pretty good at blending in, too.
The angel-animal thing worked in an odd, complex way-- sort of like a process of reincarnation. I would...Die, essentially, or cease to exist in the wordly plane, in order to be born again as a mountain lion. I would wake up as a tiny kitten pressed to my mother's belly. At the end of being a mountain lion, when I died, I would resume my activities. In order to take on the form of an animal and basically store it in my inventory, I needed to live out the life of one first. I believe I was always aware that I was an angel whilst I was any of these animals, too, but probably in a different way than I'm aware of it now, since mountain lions do have different cognitive thought than humans.
Truthfully, I don't really know what I was--am. I'm taking the human term for "angel" because it best describes the otherworldly, tree-hugger divinity I recognize as myself from the memories I've developed over my life. It also sounds really weird when I put it all together, but it gels nicely in my head.
Oh well. Here's to a new path of self-discovery. More to come, most likely.