Tag Archives: flying machine

The Journal of Dreams 01/22/2010

Da Vinci was a brilliant man and a trickster apparently.  I think he spent a lot of time amusing himself.  Definitely he was ahead of his time.  That is what I am wondering about today.  Why are some people “ahead” of their times?  There is a simple philosophy I discovered some time ago when I tried to understand the who, what, when, where and how of us as human beings.  What I came up with was that we are products of all of our interactions and experiences.  How could we be more than that if we never experienced it or learned it?  In DaVinci’s case it was imagination which allowed him to cross the boundaries of technology, to create flying machines in his mind and apply them to paper.  Of course he had to have some understanding of flight and gravity as well as other understanding of the things he built.

What about poets who write about things they have not experienced and the use of words that they never have used and do not know what they mean?  Where did that come from?  I wonder about the transition between life and death.  Just because we do not physically see a body anymore when someone dies, does that mean that they are not here with us?  What I have learned as a trauma nurse is that a body is a heavy burden to carry.  It only houses our spirit and our soul.  Even from the day we are born, this physical body is heavy for us regardless of its weight.  Imagine if your spirit was a fleeting light which darted from place to place too fast for the human eye to catch it?  It seems right when talking about the bright light of God and that we were created in his image doesn’t it?  Haven’t you ever seen something from the corner of your eye only to turn and it is gone?

What if that is a spirit that our physical bodies aren’t fast enough to keep up with and that our physical brains chalk up to impossible because it does not have the capability to understand it, something like a self-preservation mode.  If it seems illogical, then the brain rejects it.  What is that we see from the corner of our eye?  Also, if you have ever noticed that when you are extremely tired, it is then that those things become more clear.  Sometimes when I am exhausted, when I wake up for the first few minutes when I move my arms, it is like a trail of arms because the mind cannot keep up with the movement.  It is like drawing a picture which changes ever so slightly on the page corners of a book.  When you fold the pages back and let it flip, it creates a movie.

Our brain may be fast enough when it is rested, but what when it is tired?  Do we see the individual pieces which make the whole picture?  How do I not know at this very moment, that there aren’t spirits surrounding me watching me work?  Just because I cannot see it, it does not mean that it isn’t so.  How do we know that DaVinci didn’t sketch those flying machines through a guided hand of a spirit?  We do not.  Often times people say I think too much.  They are only seeing the waking part of my thinking.  If they saw the sleeping part of my thinking (my dreams), they would wonder how I survive at all!  How do we know that we are not someone reincarnated?  How do we know that we do not come back over and over just to experience all the things we didn’t understand the first time around?  Where does Deja vu come from?

Circle of Seven

 Would it be marvelous to save this old and weary soul?

 Shadows dance aimlessly toward its demise. Visionless of what we have and limitless in belief it will never end, we seem to anticipate a brighter explosion of tomorrow through darkness of yesterday’s eyes.

 Mumbling voices echo, hit their knees for the first time. Prayer trickles through empty corridors as a soul begs to be set free. Physical limitations crushing, override the spirit. So it creeps in, this thing called destiny.

 No sadness lingers at lifetime’s edge, no mystery unraveled, or story to tell. Only the tempting call of affirmation and worth when ones standing are left behind, as the soul rises from its heavy shell.

 Shadows move closer to graciously accept, the soul dances weightless within the heaven-bound circle of seven. Rejoicing tears splash on earth mimicking soft rain as the old, weary soul travels gently toward heaven.

Advertisements