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Dreamed 1989/2/17 by Chris Wayan

I'm in free fall, in my parents' house. Floating in the living room, high up.

Not as much fun as it sounds--I can't get a grip on anything! How to move around in zero gee? Flail and stretch, trying to reach anything, for the longest time. No.

I'm lost in family space!

Now wait... action, reaction. Even if I can't touch anything solid, there IS something I'm touching, that I can move...

I start puffing sharply, and like a rocket or a squid (if less efficient), I slowly propel myself to the ceiling and grab a beam. An air-rocket.

Astronauts and oneironauts, remember this! You're never stranded mid-air, as long as you can breathe.

Air is rocket fuel. You have rocket breath!


Not that this dream has any metaphorical content. You're just in your parents' house, unable to get a grip, trying to self-start and not getting anywhere. What to do?

Talk it up. Hot air isn't always just hot air. Talk alone can build momentum--can be a deed.

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