I was giving flying lessons to an audience that didn’t exist
This morning, just before waking up —
I understood it was a dream, yet felt skeptical
Because the physical sensations of flight were really quite convincing
Swooping around the stars
Somewhere I read that flying dreams are due to a drop in blood pressure — some illusion of the sleeping brain
But what does that mean?
My body can still recall the small adjustments to my shoulders that were so helpful in steering —
I kept demonstrating and explaining the various refinements
No one was listening but I felt I was being helpful somehow or other
How to stay elevated — etc — although there didn’t actually seem to be any ground to fall down onto
Somehow the flying was a liberation from the memory of being bound to the earth
Since childhood, my air speed has always been rather sedate —
There is barely room for excitement
Instead the exquisite joy of moving freely in space
Like swimming only without the dilemma of buoyancy vs. sinking
When I woke up I felt so happy
To have flown again
Thank you, Lama Karma Justin Wall, for this pink alpaca
I loved llamas as a kid in Peru…
Shall we call it an alpacalope?
Nightmares are not the only type of dream
I hope to see lots of fellow alpacas at the People’s Climate March this Sunday!
Thanks for reading, all who do.