Child of Twilight and Dreams

When I was young, there was a family that lived close to mine. There was an older brother about the age of my own, and a younger sister about mine. My brother and I used to spend time with them, wandering around our block and through our tiny woods playing pretend and having fun. They moved away to a town not very distant and I didn't see them for some time. When they returned to our church years later(since they still had many friends there), the brother was strong and kind and the sister was beautiful and sweet. I tell you all this because the sister was part of a very precious memory of mine, one that reminds me of who I've always wanted to be.

It was during the summer, and the children of my community were enjoying an afternoon at the Crestwood golf club pool. I was in the shallow end with aforementioned friend, and we somehow started pretending that I was rescuing her. I picked her up in my arms (not hard to do in water) and began to carry her to "safety"- the steps into the pool. Others began to laugh at us, but although we were embarassed by them, I don't remember feeling ashamed of what we were playing at. It may have looked funny, but I was a hero in that pool, if only for a few make-believe moments. And it felt good.

I've often wondered if my romantic tendencies were born from watching those classic Disney movies(it's out generation that saw them in the theater!), or if they just fueled them. I tend to believe in the latter, since our tastes reflect just as much about who we are as what we see. That being said, I still wonder who I am. Animation, romance, pretty pictures, a weakness for the wistful and melancholic... what do these say about me? One of my many quirks is that I feel like my life is a story. That is, I feel like part of me is living my life and the other part is watching it go by, with some guesses about where it's headed. Like Spike from Cowboy Bebop, I feel like my life is a dream, and I wonder how many other people feel that way(because why put it in the show if people can't relate?). I daydream of fantastic achievements, longing for the day when they might come to pass. It's what keeps me going, sometimes. What are they, you ask? Well, let me tell you...

I do have simple dreams. Such as being a writer. That's a simple dream, right? I'd like to find the discipline to hone all of my artistic interests: writing, drawing, sculpting, playing a pennywhistle, and maybe even writing music (or lyrics, at least). These are the hobbies and skills that are nearest to hand; the ones that are acheivable by the most common measure. The thing that bothers me is why I have to make myself do them, as I don't often seem to enjoy them for their own sake. I've known for a while that I write best when I'm happy, but that's not a dependable condition. I've wanted to give up writing this post, even. It's something I'll have to figure out. It might even be the key to understanding something very important about myself.

Other dreams of mine aren't so simple; indeed, they might not even be achievable, but I still hold on to them. Like a flying suit. I have laid my own claim to man's longing for flight, with a few distinctions. When I say a flying suit, I mean just that: a suit that will provide directable force without blades, wings, or rockets. The little-known and controversial field of electrostatic propulsion would provide the means, but the force and speeds I want would require a lot of work and experimentation. According to what I've read, it requires tens of thousands of volts to move a small mass. I don't know the technical specifics, but once I have a job and money to spend on experiements, I'll have a better idea.

The other requirement for the flying suit is itself another dream of mine: a small but high-capacity energy source. Cold fusion or perhaps even fuel cells could possibly work, but I'm more interested in free energy. Radiant energy receivers, actually. There are plenty of ideas that have been shown to be frauds, but I still hold out hope. Perhaps a false one, but at least I can recognize the possiblity.

The full development of a flying suit described above would open up myriad opportunities. Flying cars. Independent energy production for families and businesses. Easy access to space. Extraterrestrial colonization. Hehe. I feel like a kid writing this down. In many ways, I still am. I realized the other day that when people see me, they see an adult. It's certainly different from my point of view.

That brings me to the most outlandish, the most audacious and incredible dream of mine. It's born directly from the book "The Millenial Foundation," which a friend of mine bought in high school and I skimmed through. It outlines 8 steps to turn humanity into a space-faring, galaxy-colonizing species, in only 1000 years. The first step, though, is what really fascinated me. It was called Aquarius, and it described the building of floating cities in the oceans. A ship, it was suggested, would go into international waters and use the ocean's minerals to build a kind of concrete, called seacrete. This would form the structure of the city, and algae farming-specifically spirulina-would provide its food. Eventually, sovereignity would be declared, and the spirulina would be used to feed the hungry and the profits from food and power sales used to further space exploration.

I suppose this appeals to the Utopian in me. The belief that a world can be made where the hungry are fed and things previously thought impossible would come to life. That's why I call it the most outlandish of my fantasies. There is no Utopia, not in this life. But I still can't help wanting to make a place where things are beautiful and dreams are free.

In none of this, you may have noticed, have I mentioned God. Rest assured, that disturbs me. I read the blogs of friends like Laura and Jeromie and see such hearts devoted to working the will of God. Here, I talk only of one will. My will. This shames me, but I yet sense that the path to knowing God is not through shame and guilt. Because of them, I have kept God at arm's length, refusing to accept the deep truth of Grace. Indeed, failing to understand it.

Yet I can still see his hand, I think. When I went before the Ports Authority police to interview for a position in law enforcement, I found myself in a place I never would have guessed. Law enforcement has never been on my list of possibilities. And yet, here I am, calling in my desire to take the position and see where it leads. I expect to hear good news back from the Ports Authority, if for no other reason than such a turn in fate is too strange to me not to occur. If not, then another unseen path will probably open up. I serve a wild God, and even these far-fetched dreams are tame to Him.

Whatever the course, I remind myself that I must perservere. It is my style to give up and give in. To accept nothingness and try to sleep my cares away. But if I do that, then dreams will stay dreams, and I'll only be a hero in make-believe.


Twilight out.