PSY CON / Excerpt from "The Bridge Between the Worlds"

                   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 of the people around me. I'd stopped noticing peoples faces last night, I had finally passed out. Everyone just went on with the rollout party without me. I bet I was reading in my sleep again?

                   Eyes half shut I'm starting to see that new alternative world history that Terry told me about last night,  the one with all those recent alien artifact excavations. I think I'm remembering those digs where we found a prehistoric Silurian Dome predating all previously known sentient life here on Earth. I'm watching from my own inner space moving panoramically underneath me. That ancient city was dug up in 2025 from the very place I go to in my dreams when I'm too sick to be around anyone. Maybe it is just a dream. But before I can force myself to wake up, I hear a soft and familiar voice. I see myself through someone else's eyes looking at me asleep in my recumbent lounge chair.

                  "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 may be seeing herself through my eyes too. I can feel her body through the inside of my own body, she may be feeling me 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 my rough night before. I've performed many extractions before. I'm often taken prisoner in order to help someone else get out of a cult, a bad job or some other dangerous relationship. But most of the time we are usually released quickly, just to get rid me. This however seems much more serious. 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 clear my thoughts and say, "I'm sorry Jennifer, good morning." "Yes, I am very glad to meet you, have we ever met somewhere before?" Another agonizing Deja Vu. I've always hated being so sensitive. Until I was prescribed anti seizure medication I used to think it was disrespectful to look into peoples eyes directly, for just this reason. Once I found out I could recover from these painful "Kriyas" I haven't needed the drugs any more. "Jennifer, I'm still waking up and I really do want to talk with you." "Do you have to be anywhere soon?" Can you stick around?

                  "Mr. Johnson?" "I think I might be another one of you." "I mean I wanted to come and see you personally, I've all read your books about Transpersonal Identification." "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, how whole experiences can be shared by this fluid expression during touch." "When I got to the part where you talk about the infinite repartitioning of memory using meta formal logic strings to encode imprint data, I thought you were stealing my notes" "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 don't understand. My life is getting so much easier, I'm sure you must hear this from people all the time, that you must be reading our thoughts."

                   "Can I get back with you?" I ask her. "I don't know what to say and I really do want to talk to you, and I'm not thinking clearly yet." "Are you going to be here awhile longer?" "Please call me Phillip, I feel like such 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, does she see the flaming Monstrance too? This young girl seems to understands the whole point of my work. Does she see the moving lights? I'm shocked. All of these people here this morning are really smart. But usually after someone gets to see the walls melt, we melt,  and die. Yet Jennifer seems to be ready to take that last step. 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 memory, we may be looking at another actual "Dual Mutual Self." Just like Newton and Leibniz arriving independently at the Integral Calculus. Different minds can think the same thoughts, simultaneously. Indeed.

                   I Ask to be excused and walk down to the basement to use the bathroom, everyone in the halls seem pleasant enough, while politely trying to ignore me. 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.