Out of Myself, and Back Again

I feel like I've been out of myself lately, like I'm detached and watching myself going through the motions of a life.

When I was a child, I had dreams that a part of me (my soul, spirit?) could leave my body.  I would look at myself laying in bed, then fly off on these disembodied, nocturnal adventures.  Once I flew to the moon.  In this dream, I remember that I grew apprehensive as I drew closer to the moon, worried that I might not be able to get back to my body.  I looked back and saw this cord that attached  me to a fixed point somewhere on the diminishing Earth.  I figured that point was my body.  Still, my fear of seeing the cord and my terrestrial home flying away caused me to awaken from the dream.  I never dreamed of traveling to the moon again.

On a different occasion, I dreamed I wound up in what appeared to be the Far East.  I remember seeing this fishing village, the water on fire from reflecting the lights of many fishing boats. I approached one of the boats and I saw a lady.  I just floated there and watch her.  Then it seemed she could sense my presence, and that scared me, so I awoke.

Astral projection, the metaphysically minded might think?  I don't think so.  I could dismiss those experiences as either an overactive imagination or too much sugar before bed time.  And nothing like what I mean now when I say I've been out of myself lately (though I wish it was).  No, lately I seem to be on autopilot, taking care of the mundane and perfunctory matters that seem to constitute my existence, while my mind wanders away to the moon, or the Orient, or just about anywhere else.

Sadly, it seems the days are consumed with the chores that keep me ostensibly functioning as a member of the human race; job, school, bills, social and family obligations, house upkeep...the list seems infinite!  I feel like part of me is an automaton performing a set of programmed tasks while the other part of me watches.

The ladies, Mrs. Muller and Lili.

Today was a little different. The ladies (Mrs. Muller and Lili) and I had a rare moment of downtime we could share, and we decided on a hike and picnic.  Seems a simple enough thing, but something we rarely think to do.  I believe that is because, despite the fact we have time that doesn't have to be consumed by obligation, we allow those obligations to take that time from us anyway.  Today we took that time for ourselves, and I have to tell you it was nice.

It was an easy enough hike, maybe five miles through flat, Florida sand pine scrub brush.  Our only concerns were protruding oak tree roots throughout the trail and a fallen tree we had to duck under.  Unfortunately, Mrs. Muller didn't duck when coming back and ran into it with enough force to rattle her teeth.  She's OK, but her ego is a little bruised.  Though black bear and bobcats are seen in the park where we hiked, our only encounter with any wildlife was a rafter of five wild turkeys.  We got pictures.  Mrs Muller actually thought about cooking a turkey breast for dinner.  We had good times.

The Muller and Lili crossing a treacherous part of the trail.

On our way back to the trail head - with my daughter leading the way as she sped towards the bottle of ice tea that waited her in the picnic area, my wife bringing up the tail end with a goose egg on her crown - I couldn't help but to think this was one of the best days I'd had in quite a while.  And I felt whole, both fully engaged mentally and physically in something for the first time in what seemed like forever.  My thoughts were on the next step in front of me, then the new discovery my daughter ran across, and making sure Mrs. Muller was still back behind us somewhere (by mile 3.5 I think she was tuckered out).  I wasn't thinking about work, tuition, the bills, or that pile of laundry that needed to be put away; my thoughts were of the ladies, and the smell and sounds of the forest around us, hopefully sighting some wildlife, and finally that picnic lunch waiting for us at the trail head.  I was fully engaged and in the moment.  And it was nice.

I should admit that I also thought about those biting gnats that terrorized me during our picnic (and only me!), but it was a brief moment in an otherwise perfect day.  They sure were irritating, though.

Tomorrow I'll be back to the mundane and the perfunctory, but today it was good to be back into myself again.  I need to remember the lesson of today and try to stay engaged, because each moment is precious and worth the effort to enjoy.  Other than the knock she took to her noggin, I'm sure Mrs. Muller would agree.

As for Lili, well, she already gets it.  She's good that way.  You know, I should tell her about my wild dreams.  She'll think I'm crazy.  Then we should plan a trip to the beach.  With a picnic.