FLIGHT, FREEDOM, UNITY, AND LOVE
Flight, as defined in "Webster's New World Dictionary," is: the distance covered by or that can be covered at one time by an airplane or projectile. A "projectile" sounds a bit more provocative...
I think of an airplane as a flying bus. Sure, i am fortunate to view billowing clouds up close and personal, but except for the obvious, it's not very uplifting. Also, my chariot does not fit through the aisle of the plane, so i must use an "aisle seat" in order to board and debark. I am boarded first, to greet the others on, and i debark last to ensure no one is left behind. The seat itself is, appropriately, very narrow and very hard. Humm. Once on that seat, i have to be buckled in so i won't fall off, which is to say the least, self-defeating, because they cannot pull the straps tight or else the pressure would remove skin tissue. It is all rather pathetic. But, if you're into bondage...
Definitely, not a pleasant flight.
I have an occasion, twice per week, to fly through the air with the greatest of ease. I fly through the air on a flying trapeze! Well, close enough. On a net sling attached to a ceiling track in a large room in a hospital, far, far, away. I roll and roll along that track hanging from a sling with a body, unclothed, exposing a scarred hell of purple, red, blue, white, and pink. A body without dressings to hide and protect open, weeping wounds, blisters tight with blood or other cellular fluids to be drained after therapy. I hang there naked in all respects, a dying body shaking from the cold and the emotional pain - exposed to the world ... at least it seems that way. I finish the flight and am lowered into a 98 degree bubbling brew of chlorizine (just enough to sting) and H 2O. After boiling for 20 minutes, my clean (i hope) body is hoisted back to complete the trip. Hell over high water. Painful bitch. Sucks. Big time. But that whirlpool jet...
Definitely not a dignified way to fly.
Moving out to Isla Vista was a dream come true. Boy, was i naive. My roommates proclaimed me Murraywoman. On Halloween, I.V. residents get down, dirty, drunk, and dangerous. Especially for me. So, i stay at the apartment and become emotionally in tune with earthbound creatures - turning into SuperMurraywoman. With my black velvet lace cape with stars made from gold beads strung together by angels ... that match my gold star under my left eye ... i take flight. Able to Leap! Domino's Pizza at a single bound. More powerful than a double espresso at Borders. It's a mid-term, it's a final, it's Murraywoman!
It is dark, and i'm ready to soar. Darkness tends to hide the scars, malformations, my face. It is safe. Known.
Yes! Yes! Yes! My heart's all a flutter as i hover the Reserved Book Room, looking for any Vivarin someone may have left behind. A pink heart, maybe? I notice a cool breeze against my cheeks. I am in physical pain. Why? The cool air is supposed to lessen the pain by giving me an alternative focus. A tool to push the pain away. My hands are throbbing and tingling from lack of circulation. My lower arms and legs join in the discomfort. The skin around my hands and foot feels tight, as though it could burst. Explode. Sacks of confused bones and nerves. Bleeding and hurting lesions. Not waiting for me to live life. My life. Now. Now is all that anyone has.
Even when i'm flying, i scream inside from pain. Even when i'm flying, people are frightened and disgusted when they see me. Even when i'm flying, i feel alone. Even when i'm flying, i know parts of me are dying. Even when i'm flying, i hate this disease. But then there's morphine ...
Definitely not a painless way to fly.
On Tuesday, November 7, 1995, i was crying on the outside, screaming on the inside, tired of feeling pain and having pain. I could not regulate my breathing, nor could i focus. I was hanging on with fingernails i don't have, ready to leave for the hospital for a morphine i.m. and drip. I did not want that. Not now. Heavy stuff like that is for the end. This was not the end. So i called my Angel to help me regain pain control and see me through the hell of that night. He did.
My Angel wanted me to lift off, leaving my physical body behind, and flying up in a pure soul-embodiment - the radiance that is me. Where was the physical pain? My body did not need to be defensive because there was no pain to fight against. No more disgusting feelings of being imprisoned tightly, from scalp to toes, in scar tissue. limiting my every dance movement. No disgusting sensations of throbbing, heat, dryness, pulling, and aching. No more changing wet, goopy dressings, draining ounces of cellular fluid from blisters, no needles, and no blood dripping anywhere and everywhere from my body. No more distractions from a dying body.
I also got rid of the guilt with which i punished myself. I did not cause my own cancers, blisters, lesions, pain, or loss of eyesight. I was not stupid or insignificant because i didn't have a "job" and did not finish university. No more disparaging and derogatory thoughts and actions directed at myself. I had let go. I was my pure "me." The "Susi" i loved and cherished. I was free to join my Angel as we danced among the stars and planets together, effortlessly, joyfully. Away from physical pain, fear, exhaustion, and physical and emotional frustrations.
My Angel had taught me how to fly.
Although i still seek assistance from my Angel, now when i experience physical pain and frustrations, i close my eyes and take flight, leaving my damaged body and all its burdens behind. Without walls, defenses, barriers. So naked, i have light as my body. Unbandaged, i float, uninhibited, i sing from my pure me. Right out loud. I am free to emerge into the light of my own soul. This is where i will discover my deepest passions, comfort, and the greatest heart of loves.
Well, i kinda like this new flying style. Lessens the physical pain. And, discovering those deepest passions...
Hanging around the stars brings a new perspective compared to flying here on earth. In many ways, the universe is silent. Silence reverberates with love that uplifts and consoles, leading me toward the silent singing to my soul the verses that will help me fly. The universe is intelligent and loving to its gifts, all a reflection of that which is always available within ourselves.
The earth looks so fragile from up here. So small and delicate, a mystery. Intense, richer, and beautiful colors. There it exists. Just one little part of the clarity and brilliance of the universe.
Maybe, someday, by any manner of flight, humans will understand that we must cherish and preserve that big blue marble in space.
Maybe, someday, those same people will notice that the earthbound have more in common than not.
I still want my Angel to join me on my spiritual getaways. I just don't feel confident flying by myself; i fear a fall or just being left alone. My number 1 challenge this year is to prevent the fearing of being alone or lonely and fear of injury. I have a constant desire to hold hands, to lean against a friend, or to be held by those few humans i am ultra-connected to.
Yet, none of us is all alone. We exist as bundles and bundles of energy and information, with an infinite number of members. My spirit is part of that which i am, existing in everything.
Be still and hear voices speaking poetry in the air of imagination. Music glides and ebbs, as it plays around and through every atom of light. When i listen, i find all of creation singing and dancing to the same song.
All of us have a magical pool of love that shines around and inside us at all times. With flight and freedom all can feel unity with every bird, rock, flower, every inch of atmosphere. The more aware we are, the more we see and know ourselves, everywhere in all beings ... the more we admit the presence of and the quest for love. The love we are led by. The love that always gets what it wants. The love that always gives all it has. The love that is the reason for being.
|Page Created: October 19, 2000 Last Update: October 19, 2000 Return To: WBPSusi|
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(Thanks, Susi, For Finding Kitty At FullMoon Graphics!)