PSY CON

PSY CON

                   Ahhhhh,....., I just had the most wonderful nap. I think I was dreaming about one of my other lives, I don't remember where I went to sleep. Eyes open warm and cozy, I see colored light coming in through a Rose Window. Gentle tones of beautiful music, beckons me to engage the theatre full of people milling in dawns quiet peace. The doors of the one time church open as the cool sweet April air flows through the doors, down the aisles, down around my dangling feet rising up to my waiting nose. The bouquet of fresh spring steals my thoughts away. I had been placed in a easy lounge chair sometime last night. I don't want to finish waking up. I'm so happy, all my children are back together again. I'm starting to recognize many more of the people around here. I'd stopped noticing peoples faces before I finally blacked out. Everyone just went on with the rollout party without me. Was I reading in my sleep again?

                   Eyes half shut I start seeing that new alternative world that Terry told me about last night,  the one with all those alien art excavations. I'm remembering the digs where we found that prehistoric Silurian Dome that predated all previously known sentient life here on Earth. I'm watching my inner safe place moving panoramically beneath me. That ancient city was found in 2025 in the very place I return to in my dreams when I'm too sick to be around anyone. Maybe it is all just a dream. Before I can force myself to wake up, I hear a soft familiar voice. I see myself from the foot of my recliner, through someone else's eyes looking at me asleep.

                  "Mr. Johnson?" "Mr. Johnson, I'm sorry to bother you." "Can you hear me?" "My name is Jennifer." As I open my eyes I realize she's seeing herself through my eyes too. I feel her body, she may be feeling mine too.

                   I jump to my feet and almost fall down. Jennifer grabs my arm to catch me and says, "Ouch." I think she is herself feeling the bruise on my arm from the night before. I've performed many an extraction before. Where I'm taken prisoner to help someone else get out of some cult, or a bad job or some other dangerous relationship. But most of the time we are usually released quickly, just to get rid me. This seems much more serious than those other times on earlier missions. This is just too weird. "Sir, are you alright?" She asks, "Do you need anything?" "Should I call someone?" Jennifer looks worried.

                  Catching myself, "I'm sorry Jennifer, good morning." "Yes, I'm glad to meet you, have we ever met before?" Secretly, I've always hated being a sensitive. I used to think it was disrespectful to look into peoples eyes directly. My poor wife had to put up with my shy eyes. "Jennifer, I'm still waking up and I really do want to talk with you." "Do you have to be anywhere soon?"

                  "Mr. Johnson?" "I think I might be another one of you." "I mean I wanted to come and meet you person, I've all read your books about Transpersonal Identification." "And all about how we share emotional boundaries through contact, and about how our emotional boundaries can actually mirror information back and forth with each other, and about how whole experiences can be shared by this fluid expression during touch." "And when I got to the part where you talk about the infinite repartitioning of memory using meta formal logic strings to encode imprint data." "Oh gosh I'm sorry, it's just I'm so excited." "I thought I've been writing about the same things and I just didn't understand why my life started getting a whole lot easier, I'm sure you must hear this all the time."

                   "Can I get back to you?" I ask her. "I don't know what to say and I really do want to talk to you." "Are you going to be here awhile longer?" "Please call me Phillip, I feel like an idiot."

                   "Of course, I'm sorry." She apologizes again, "I didn't mean to attack you like some crazed fan." "Do you mind if I just hang out for awhile, I would love it if I could show you some of my notes." I smile and nod. She is a very pretty yet athletic brown haired lass with curves and a sweet voice. Whoever you are Jennifer, I like you.

                     I want to ask her so much, does she see it? This young girl actually understands the whole point of my work. Does she actually see the moving light? I'm shocked. All of these people here this morning are really smart. But usually after someone gets to see the walls melt, we simply die. Jennifer seems to be ready to take the last step. And I don't think she's even afraid. What if she is the one, well o.k. one of the ones. If it turns out she came with the same encoding protocols for the discrete partitioning of all language, we may be looking at an actual "Mutual Self Dual. " Just like when both Newton and Leibniz independently arrived at the Integral Calculus. Different minds can think the same thoughts. Indeed.

                   I walk down to the basement to use the bathroom, everyone in the halls seem pleasant. I smell Coffee. That always gets things moving. There is the kitchen that must have served countless Sunday luncheons. I think I can still smell them cooking donuts during mass.