July 15, 2001

  • I am in a mood where I am succumbing to the tortuous tease of beautiful women loose and large.  “Ground Control to Major Tom, your circuit’s dead--is there something wrong?  Can you hear me Major Tom?  Can you hear me Major Tom?...”


    I awoke much this way.  So what transpired in the sleep of the night to set me on the edge?


    The dream I awoke from...I was faltering, fading into an unrecognizable terrain.  There was a post--something like a huge mushroom stalk without the cap.  Only it was covered with cloth and bound with cords or straps.  I was grabbing onto this post for bearing, just a little orientation when a guide spirit informed me that not until I almost entirely collapse would a woman come to my assistance.  A woman, just a woman?  Not just a woman--but a woman in intimate relationship.  Aha! I thought.  Until now I’ve been too strong for the approach to a relationship.  Always active, always on the move, never faltering, never giving in.  Time to give in, suggested the guide spirit.  Time to go down.


    “...Cause I’m close to the edge....I’m about to loose my head. Huh-huh-huh.”


    Time to level it.  Level like the outer skin of the atmosphere.  Level with the hum of health that believes in the body’s own wisdom.

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