Monthly Archives: October 2015

Lifting Up: I Just Know I Can Fly

Several years ago, I experienced a cluster of dreams, in which I was being schooled in the art of flying by illuminated beings. Angels? Aliens? Subconscious archetypes? Something I ate for dinner? I don’t know, but they were nice.

They showed me how to establish and have expectation around an intention, how to create a particular emotional state (lightness of being, of course), how to practice altering the downward thrust of gravity in my body (“as consciousness rises and becomes less dense, so does your body”), and then how to attune my hands’ sensitivity to the recognition of gravitational energy, so they could push against gravity the way magnets can repel each other. None of this was actually spoken by these beings. They simply conveyed the two-word thought:  “Lift up,” which went through my brain-filter in all it’s dense and detailed language and image processing.

In these dreams I also witnessed flight happening all around me. There were hundreds of us in the outdoor school, lifting a few feet off the ground, then gliding back down, then a few feet more, then back down. The more I saw,  the more I believed in the possibility.

As my sensitization to the feeling of gravity grew, my first awareness was that of my hands dragging through air, as if it had become the consistency of water. I could feel the weight and pulse of it, the texture of it. Of course, the air hadn’t changed.  My consciousness  had.

Pushing AirOver time (and through several dreams), I began to notice a shift from dragging through air to pushing it, the way magnets’ matching poles propel away from each other. And from there, I began to lift and direct myself into the sky, being filled with enthusiasm, then gripped by fear and doubt, which tumbled me back to earth. Eventually, I could sustain the joy long enough to hover around the tops of trees.

I would wake from these dreams and feel the experience so strongly in my body, that I would literally get out of bed in the middle of the night with the belief I could do this! I could “lift up!” Alas, I could not.

These nocturnal “lessons” all happened several years ago and then stopped, until the eve of my birthday this year. In this newest dream, I was no longer in school, and I’d forgotten I could fly. But due to an emergency in which I really needed to get some altitude (I’d lost my daughter at a theme park), I had the sudden recollection of my skill set and launched myself far above the treetops to scan the ground, like a hawk in search of dinner. I found my daughter and woke up, exhilarated.

We could have a field day with dream interpretation here, but the analysis, though compelling, was far less captivating to me than the actual physical sensation. I always woke up absolutely certain that physical flight as human beings is possible, because I had done it! I knew the sensation, like I knew the feeling of tossing a ball, climbing stairs, or swimming in a pool.

So, here is where my story shifts from dreamland to my backyard.  And no, I did not fly in my backyard.

On my birthday morning,  I was sitting on the patio with coffee and journal, writing about my flying dream, talking with Holy Spirit (my name for the Mystery) and asking (don’t laugh), “Is it indeed possible for humans to fly… for me to fly? We hear about yogis who can levitate. Am I, perhaps, being trained through dream work to do something my conscious mind wouldn’t necessarily be open to?”

I pondered and wrote, feeling sheepish, but nevertheless giving some effort to mentally lifting my butt from the seat cushions! After a very short amount of time, though, it became clear to me that no, I’m not yet schooled enough to lift these dense hips and thighs! But perhaps I could lift the leaf resting on a chair across from me? Ha! So I concentrated on the leaf, and within a couple of minutes the wind began to blow like crazy, and leaves began to fall from a nearby tree all over the patio. That one leaf on the chair, though, sat perfectly still.

It was pretty funny, as if Holy Spirit was teasing me, saying, “Seriously, honey.  We have a LOT more work to do, but I hear you, and I love you for trying!” My heart became so light I couldn’t stop giggling and feeling a true sense of connection with the wind, the trees, the falling leaves.  I was playing with Life, and Life was playing back! It was a perfect birthday present. This old girl still had some young girl in her!

I then heard inside my head, “Turn on your video recorder.” I immediately picked up my phone, zeroed in on that still-dead-still-leaf on the chair across from me, and waited. After fifteen seconds or so, the leaf bobbled. Just once…a little birthday bow.

Laugh, if you will, but I’m on to something.  I just know it!  😉

If you have flying dreams, too, please share! What a fun conversation (and maybe a classroom experience) we could have!

Blessings, everyone!

That Kiss

Moonlight through windowI go through these phases from time to time, where I feel as though something is pulling at my consciousness, whispering, “The veils are dropping, my dear. Just around this next bend; you are almost there.” Do you? Maybe its just me, but I think not. It’s just hard to put language to, that’s all. And its vulnerable.  And we have a love/hate relationship with vulnerability, even though we are collectively learning to lean in to it more and more…the stirring of the Divine Feminine. Rumi knew this place well. He expressed it so beautifully:

There is some kiss we want
with our whole lives,
the touch of Spirit on the body.

Seawater begs the pearl
to break its shell.

And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild Darling!

At night, I open the window
and ask the moon to come
and press its face into mine.
Breathe into me.

Close the language-door,
and open the love-window.

The moon won’t use the door,
only the window.

-Rumi

In The Twilight Of An Epoch

Twilight Sky 3

Who knows the future?
Who knows, indeed.
Not even the angels,
we’ve always been told.

But I feel the stab
of our collective grief,
held at bay, held at bay,
swathed in cotton, held at bay,

for goodness’ sake,
for sanity’s sake,
for fear of drowning,
the end of the world.

This grief
of our twilight
is a rising sea.

We bob up for moments,
we students of Love.
But we are students, alas,
still learning to swim.

So Jesus, we call you,
and Buddha, too. And Allah
and Krishna and Tara and Kali,
not to burst through the clouds
to sweep us away,
but into our hearts
to sweep us clean.

Ground us in acceptance,
in full frontal knowing.
Dissolve our timidity into
Love’s massive courage.

Lift us, oh Wise Ones, into
Beings of Light,
our own hedge of protection
round this beautiful planet.

— Angela Hite —