“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night.”
Edgar Allan Poe
You could call me a dreamer. In fact, that is what I would prefer. There are too many cracks in this reality that I love to fill with my imagination. You see in dimensions, I see beyond.
My ability to dream during the sunlight hours has been both a natural talent, and a side-effect that I carefully discipline.
This weekend, I saw my first hot air balloon. And just as my mind was beginning to veer into magical territory (for, things like seeing hot air balloons produce meditation-quality effects on me), I was able to climb aboard one and float into the air.
I was whisked up toward the clouds in a rhythmic boost. Watching as the people on the ground grew smaller, one thing became very clear: I must be daydreaming.
There in the sky, I was. Fleeting, rising, bending space. I saw a past and a future. Present tense escaped me.
I was weightless.
Yes, I must be daydreaming.
A beautiful moment that I thoroughly enjoyed and will keep in my memories for the rest of my days — but still, a moment. Yes, time. A frequent foe that has interrupted many of my great excursions (whether real or not). So while I was brought into a brief stretch of beautiful melodic floating, time reminded me that life (and reality) must go on.
I said my final goodbye to the rising sun, with a promise to pay more attention to it in the future. I gave another look up into the captured air that was preventing my fall. And I descended. Back to Earth.
I woke up.
Home now, thrown back into the reality that I so love to loathe. I am once again reminded how important it is to take time to allow these magical moments where mundane is non-existent. The simplest of things can transport your mind so very far away.
Yes, I am a dreamer. A believer of things impossible. A lover of the strange and unusual. Attracted to mischief and miracles. I turn experiences such as watching a hot air balloon floating through the air, into a slow-motion fantasy playing in my head. I ride in one, and suddenly I am no longer restricted to the box we are all put in.
A wonderful weekend, indeed.