The night after my early morning bosom’s whistle awakening, I snugged into the covers, ready for the healing power of sleep. I confess….I was running the a.c. It has been the kind of hot muggy winter that has given Mississippi its reputation for being The Balmy South. I was trying to clear my mind of detritus of the day when I heard the a. c. compressor kick on, accompanied by a shrill, though not as loud and shrill as my morning wake-up call, whistle. It was the UPS that I had failed to turn off the night before. These two share an electrical line, but sometimes fight for control. The UPS squawk was my bosom’s whistle. I had heard it before, and I was hearing it now. Later my husband said he was surprised I didn’t hear it several times that morning…he could hear it all the way in the sun room.
You didn’t really think that I really thought my brain had somehow manifested my own personal alarm system, did you? Of course I didn’t. Not really. Not even though nine times out of ten, or at least a lot, I can tell myself what time to wake up and I do. So much so I forget how to set the alarm. Or that some people have seemed to read my thoughts, and I have had mind melding or at least thought sharing experiences, and a bit of the esp thing.
And if my will were going to control my passage through the physical universe, I would certainly direct it to do better things that manifest an ear-piercing system of alarm. Like forgiving those who hurt my feelings or those who are just ornery jerks. Or better yet, never getting my feelings hurt, and recognizing we are none of us in reality ornery jerks. I would heal the sick. I would heal my little dog. I would fly, without machines, of course. I would spontaneously awaken and also not eat junk food I think I crave and vacuum the floor on a regular basis and drive without fear through Houston, Texas. I would spontaneously awaken in eternity, not just physically wake up at 5:00 a.m., and still vacuum the floor.
Also, if that sound were going to manifest from another dimension, what else might enter through that portal? Both Stuart Wilde and Lynn Grabhorn think they saw other dimensional entities that weren’t necessarily there in their best interests. And my husband’s family dealt for several years with a poltergeist that could be downright annoying. And while I’ve never seen another dimensional entity, so what do I know, I do think you better be careful what you ask for, or at least that’s what my husband tells me, and he also says "they're other dimensions for a reason."
Still, for a brief while, it felt like those barriers were falling. And I do, I do believe this: our reality isn’t this fun house of mirrors I’ve chosen to explore. But I guess I must use my mind not to vilify my elderly ornery aunt, and to cherish my little dog rather than dread his mysterious and progressive disease, and to not view potato chips with interest. If I have to be sure to wake up, I best set the alarm.
Magic. I wonder if I am wishing life were magic, how entertaining, what stories to share, rather than accepting it for being what it is, forgetting What Is holds all the possibilities from which I choose what I want to see. And hear.