Churches Burn when you Learn to Fly
Dreamed 1989/9/1 by Chris Wayan
A woman in San Francisco teaches me to fly in a church. I don't find it hard, as I've done it off and on in dreamwork many times. I'm half-lucid now. But she says "You're flying's half-assed. You just float, you don't rise."
I say "That's just 'cause I'm not buoyant with my lungs deflated; my legbones tend to drag my feet down." I prove it by inhaling: I do slowly rise, as if I'm floating in water.
But her nagging does change me eventually: I give up my buoyancy-game and switch to pure perception. I simply shift my idea of 'down' to other directions, and matter falls into line--including my body! I can stand on the ceiling, and even my hair hangs upside down to my shoulders, defying consensus-gravity. Have to admit she was right: there's a difference between a TENTATIVE skill, being able to get off the ground any old way, and MASTERY--being able to do it freely, consistently, without hesitation.
My teacher takes Polaroids, delighted. My landlady Jade comes up the church steps and stands on the floor below me, while I stand on the ceiling, head down--a bizarre image my tutor snaps happily.
My tutor lays a brilliant-colored, intricate lacy cloth down on the steps like a wedding carpet. Then to my surprise she pours kerosene on... and the cloth bursts into flame without being lit! The church, largely wooden, catches fast, and I run out, grabbing only a few scraps of burnt lace. My teacher shouts "Notice I didn't light it--spontaneous combustion. When someone levitates or acquires other psychic powers, poltergeists and fires in nearby churches are common!" I believe her, I've heard it a lot around here. Still, did she have to FUEL the fire?
Lucky the place was nearly empty. Superman appears, and carries one or two stragglers out. Since I can fly properly now, I join him and find a few more. There are mazy halls in back, and a sort of canvas slide... but we rescue them all.
As the fire trucks hose the place down, I walk up the hill to a non-Christian church my tutor said specializes in psychic development. My next step?
I bump into a friend who's picketing a second pagan church next door. She's tall, skinny, white, with dark brown hair, rather attractive. She's a church worker there, but they're all on strike! I tell her about the fire, she tells me about the labor dispute. She says "You know, someone in OUR church learned to fly recently, and we had a fire too. You're not to blame, it's just a price we pay for mastering our powers."
NOTE NEXT MORNING
I stayed up and mastered a database program last night, at some cost to my body. Guess that's the price...
...or IS it? Must I really get manic and sleepless, to master things? Fuel on the fire...
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