Age 9 months.
My mother yelled at me for not putting my toys away. I didn't understand most of what she said, but your gestures and tone were clear enough. It left quite an impression on me, but also made me critically self-aware. I was surprised, years later when I asked my mother about this and when it happened. I described the white shelves near the door, the bottom shelf of which was for my toys, and she told me 9 months old -- February, 1951.
I had a couple of recurring dreams early on. I don't remember how early they started, but I'm certain I was having at least one of them by age 3. I had recurring dreams of flying. In that dream, I realized how easy it was to fly. It was as if I was awakening to an ancient wisdom. But later in the dream, I discovered my confidence slipping and I descended, losing my ability to fly. Below were hundreds of clutching claws, dark and glistening. Every time, I would wake up kicking my legs to get away from them. With these dreams, I learned a valuable lesson about faith and doubt.
Also, at age 3, I had one of my most vivid memories. We were visiting my grandfather who was minister of a Southern Baptist church. I remember him speaking, but I remember more how my legs didn't like the pews; they cut off the circulation just above my ankles, if I sat back. And mom wouldn't let me put my feet on the seat. I was miserable. I was also distracted by a young, redhead in the choir.
Later that evening, I remember seeing a film in the auxiliary building of the church. It was an advertising film for Shell Oil Company (after all, this was Texas). Then someone decided to run the film backwards. When the scene of the guy in the business suit jumping off the train ran backwards, everyone laughed, except me. Somehow, I felt electrified. Something in me woke up even more. I intuitively felt my relationship to creation itself.