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.