February 12, 2014
Experiment no.2
A reflection:
I was just woken up from a nap.
I am a big napper. A try-and-stop-me napper. A hound-in-front-of-the-fire-type napper (that's a Chinese Astrology reference).
Anyway.....while I was napping there was a knock at the door and for a moment I was caught between those two places; that sticky, hazy positioning where one realm laps over another and both stand true. Most times this is only for a micro-second, but it has been known to linger.
When the knock at the door sounded, it almost surfaced me completely--but I still had a toe lingering in that other place. And I had an alarming thought:
"He's here!"
The moment only lasted as long as my ability to think, "He's here!" for immediately after that I was dragged back into my room, my bed, my pillows, my blankets. This self.
Now, the knock at the door was real, it was the postman alerting me to the fact that he was leaving a package by the door. But my mind lingered on this thought: "Who did I think it was? Who occupies that space with me--that space in the lapping worlds? I could only think of one being.
Captain Fluffer-Nutter.
Perhaps the captain had come to me in a dream, to tell me the fate of the Belgica II. But I don't know what he was going to say.
I will keep a dream-log in my science journal, in case anything becomes clear later on.
These are strange times. We cannot afford to be prejudice against any type of information. Lives are on the line.
I was just woken up from a nap.
I am a big napper. A try-and-stop-me napper. A hound-in-front-of-the-fire-type napper (that's a Chinese Astrology reference).
Anyway.....while I was napping there was a knock at the door and for a moment I was caught between those two places; that sticky, hazy positioning where one realm laps over another and both stand true. Most times this is only for a micro-second, but it has been known to linger.
When the knock at the door sounded, it almost surfaced me completely--but I still had a toe lingering in that other place. And I had an alarming thought:
"He's here!"
The moment only lasted as long as my ability to think, "He's here!" for immediately after that I was dragged back into my room, my bed, my pillows, my blankets. This self.
Now, the knock at the door was real, it was the postman alerting me to the fact that he was leaving a package by the door. But my mind lingered on this thought: "Who did I think it was? Who occupies that space with me--that space in the lapping worlds? I could only think of one being.
Captain Fluffer-Nutter.
Perhaps the captain had come to me in a dream, to tell me the fate of the Belgica II. But I don't know what he was going to say.
I will keep a dream-log in my science journal, in case anything becomes clear later on.
These are strange times. We cannot afford to be prejudice against any type of information. Lives are on the line.
