Traveling . . . Or Not

Aerial London

(Image by the author)

An early morning half-awake dream has me perplexed.

I’ve mentioned a few times before on this blog that not all of my reasons for resuming my spiritual work were entirely spiritual. A lot of it was curiosity, an insatiable need to know, to solve mysteries. I don’t want to just know who I am and my place in things, but also all about the place and the things themselves.

That still makes my reasons sound a little loftier than they actually are. But in one case there is definitely some selfishness involved: Astral projection.

I do have spiritual reasons for this otherwise low-key desire to experiment with astral projection. Most of those reasons come down to wanting a much broader perspective on this world. But, I’ll admit, there is one selfish reason: I love traveling. And I don’t expect to be able to do any serious traveling for the foreseeable future…unless I do it in a way that doesn’t involve plane fare.

In fact, I was just thinking about this a couple of days ago – all the places on Earth I would love to see or see again (including London, see above) if I could just whisk myself away there, like through astral travel.

And then, early this morning as I was falling back asleep after something woke me up a few hours before rise and shine time, came the half-awake dream. You probably know the kind: You’re dreaming, but you’re also still awake enough to be vaguely aware of sounds and movement around you. (In my case the sounds and movements of multiple cats on my bed.)

In the first part, I was in the lead car of a roller coaster racing up its track to a peak. But instead of then racing down, I was flung from the car into a wide open blue sky. Then, instead of racing down to the ground, I found myself drifting slowly downward, much under my own power, between a forest of giant steel and glass towers that resembled semi-distant future skyscrapers in science fiction movies.

The towers weren’t really my thing, so I glided off into a cloud bank. When I emerged I was over London, or at least something greatly resembling London – I was a little higher up than the picture above, the river was slightly wider, and the bridge where Tower Bridge is supposed to be was a bit fuzzy rather than showing its distinctly iconic towers. But much of the city looked as I saw it from the airplane in the above picture, less hazy and sunny and much more distinct, including Parliament, Westminster Bridge, and other landmarks. So I decided to swoop down and have a look, starting with Tower Bridge.

Halfway to the Thames I felt something – physically felt something – tug me back hard as if I were tied to a rope yanked back by a giant. I startled awake so roughly that my body physically jolted.

So now I’m befuddled.

Was this just a dream, after all, or some kind of astral travel? And either way, why would I be pulled back so roughly that it was almost painful?

Looks like I have some new questions for my meditations. And I’ll admit that I’m still selfish enough to hope the answers don’t include any proscriptions against astral projection.


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