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But I haven't brought this up in a long time and I just ran across it again. One of my regular stops in airy-fairyland had a post full of videos of people flying... or floating... or levitating... and advancing the theory that these are space aliens, that the space aliens among us evidently need to get off their feet sometimes, often in the guise of berobed monks. Balderdash. The one video in that little collection there I find very plausible is this one of the little Russian girl levitating some feet off the ground. I find it plausible because I did that a couple times when I was a girl.
I think I was 12 and 13 when I did it. We might discount the one from when my horse kicked me in the head because I had a concussion and my consciousness was instantly dimmed, but, dammit, I don't discount it because I know I did it. I flew in through the barn window from the salt lick, where I had landed from the kick. I did not walk or crawl in through the door. Still, fine with me if you won't count that one.
But what about the time I was standing on my friend's patio at dusk, waiting for her to come back out, and just decided I ought to float to the tetherball pole that was approximately eight feet in front of me? That's it. It just crossed my mind I wanted to and I did. Feet about four feet off the ground behind me, I floated over to the pole and caught it in both hands and alighting gently as I began to swing around it.
So I think you might imagine I find the comments for this video so demoralizing. Blockheads. I've only flown in my dreams since then, and it's something I want to get back to in waking life, but the fog of consensus reality is so thick it's very hard to carve out the constitutional serenity to do it. I know that much.
Many times I dream I am levitating, walking in the air, my feet not touching the ground between steps or just floating around the kitchen or dining room or wherever, feet out behind me. A lot. A lot I do this... dream my power, my real me. I'm kind of ashamed I have to be asleep for so much of the real me, but remind myself I'm, obviously, darn more real awake than most of the people I've ever met, which I do not feel is admirable, but rather mandatory, usual, what one would even call normal on some planet where people were sane. In these dreams I'm usually filled to the brim with wanting the relative world to look at me doing it, see it with their own eyes, understand, at last, that what they saw in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was not fantasy.
So, again, unless I am a space alien and just don't know it, don't be so dim. It's a human thing, and this video may very well be the real deal. Have to say I do envy her a mother around whom she can fly, but, well, spilt milk....
