2008-08-13 - 6:57 p.m.This is the second entry for today. Go back one to read the first.
This entry is not about politics or external events. It’s not about the everyday family happenings that so many recent entries have covered.
It concerns experiences I had this afternoon after writing my first entry. I cannot – will not explain the personal mythology/symbology that underlies them.
Too often in the past someone else’s symbology escaped my notice until the Mockingbird was painfully explained to me in freshman English and the resultant notation “Mockingbird Confer” (the teacher, Mr. Confer) engraved on the back of the desk in front of me resulted in a trip to the dean’s office.
Perhaps some residue of my Native American ancestry’s mythology can help visualize and illuminate this afternoon. Is it the majesty of a soaring eagle or the incredible flight of a California Condor? Perhaps the dead feeling Ishi experienced when he knew Tushi had been swept away forever in the steam.
I called a new friend and was happy to talk for a moment. A future invitation was offered and happily accepted.
I lay down in my recliner, the very chair I “lived in” twice during my broken bone episodes. Immediately I slipped into an incredible episode of lucid dreaming. (search Google if you aren’t familiar with that term). It’s been a long time since I’ve been so in control while constructing an experience so vivid. Normally I would utilize this facility to Astral project or future-gaze. Even so those are rare experiences that are often too ephemeral to control.
I was riding a motorcycle, fairly small but very quick and light. I had complete control of the throttle and direction. As I took off down the road I accelerated to perhaps 100 mph. Even though the road was good and safe, I was quite concerned that the bike was so light and seemed to be on the verge of disaster. I slowed down multiple times letting off the throttle only to see a better road like up a hill, that enticed me to open it up. At no time did actual danger appear like a car turning onto the road. Yet each time I rocketed to a high speed, seemingly in control, apprehension would build accordingly. I would lay off the throttle only to find the bike slowing down at a slower pace than I expected. The exhaust pitch was very speed sensitive, and I could hear it as well as literally feel the bikes controls. I eventually changed my course to a racetrack to insure that I could really utilize the machine to its fullest, only to suddenly decide that I was too “scared” (I generally don’t get scared on any motorcycle) to continue and woke myself up. It took so long to come out I was still holding the controls and hearing the exhaust as my consciousness returned. I was rather surprised to look down at my hands and feel the handlebars gradually fade away as I watched.
I can only say that while some of the symbolism may be obvious, much of it is based on my personal mythology and might be disturbing to my hopes plans and dreams.
Lately, slowing down has only “lost” my immediate goal, yet succeeding may be more dangerous in the end.
Curiouoso* says “Don’t pay me any mind!”
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