It was a dream about flying. Lift right foot with both hands, and with one’s left foot leap. The sensation was akin to floating on water at calm sea. Except one is face down high above ground roaming around free.
And not without effort too. The intention to lift one’s foot was all too real. One could feel the fatigue and the need to come down. Until one regroups enough to give it one more try.
The feeling is not unfamiliar as this I would always try to do. The sun is bright and the sky is blue. How nice it would be to plant one’s face on the sea for a change? But then one would get reminded that one can’t breathe under water. And we know how snorkels suck.
Existence is fascinating. This notion of a place, the knowledge that one is somewhere. What is this I that got disappointed it wasn’t real when it woke up? It’s as if this body had a memory of being a fish in the water, of being unborn in the womb.
Brains have sections that map to the physical world. One could acknowledge that physical processes as information compression could lead to this. That sometimes one could be “awake” while it happens. That one plays around with Google Earth on occasion. Yet even so it’s surreal.
And thus continues the eternal swinging of the pendulum. From the freedom to think of the self as not needing a body as did Avicenna, to one who says enough is enough as Al-Ghazali. So on and so forth.
The fish I ate for dinner was delicious. Enough for today.