According to my paternal grandmother, I've always been receptive to spirits. She likes to remind me how I would wake her up in the middle of the night, hyperventilating as I tried to explain that my spirit had left my body, that I had found my nose pressed against the ceiling as I hovered above my bed; that I had lost my eyes and couldn't see. Back in my body, I rubbed my arms and wrapped them around my legs, not sure if I had actually returned. For many nights, I continued to jolt awake, crashing back into my body as if dropped from a great height.