The Child Who Remembered Too Much
Velarion Light Journal Entry 9 Long before I understood spirituality… before awakening, before walk-ins, before the Codex… there was a child who remembered too much. Me. I didn’t have the language for intuition. I didn’t know what a “gift” was. I didn’t even know that other children didn’t feel what I felt. All I knew was that the world seemed louder to me —not in sound, but in meaning. I could feel when people were angry before they said a word. I could sense unspoken tension hanging in a room. I could read emotions like they were colours or air pressure. And I remember watching adults and thinking, even at five or six: “Why are you saying one thing when you feel something else?” It was like my soul had come in with an extra sense — an ability to hear the spaces between words, to feel the things people tried to hide, to see beyond the obvious. But as a child, this felt more like a burden than a gift. It made me quiet. Observant. Older than my age. While other chil...
