Another strange flying dream

There was a certain sage stick that when I picked it up and fluttered it in a particular way, it started to lift me up off the ground. As I did this, I remembered the person from another dream who dropped their sage stick while aflight, resulting in a bad disfigurement for her.

As I lofted over the hills of Bald Mountain, the experience became irresistibly exhilarating, yet also quite natural. The potential for any danger quickly dissolved from my concerns.

To fly, I had to twist the sage stick in a peculiar figure-8 motion by using my hands, right in front of my body. I needed to complete the figure eight motion hundreds of times within one second to generate enough energy to fly, much like a hummingbird.

I don’t know how I was able to accomplish this, but once I started flying, it became easy. Soon I could adjust things, so that I was able to fly and steer wherever I need to go by mind control, overriding what my hands had previously been needed for, to direct my bodily flight with the swirling sage stick. Evidently, the specially powered stick now integrated itself within my body, lessening my earlier worries about needing to fly with a spare safety stick.

The full ballet of turns and spins I attempted became easier than I imagn’d they would be. After a soft landing, my company and I inspected some detailed maps of the over flown area. Interestingly, Baldy’s Southside matched exactly the area, where I grew up in Kings Park West. If you overlapped the map of the Virginia area, east of where Lord Fairfax and his wife are buried, with the proximity of the territory due east of Bald Mountain in Ketchum, Idaho, you would be hard-pressed to say, which map covers Virginia and which Idaho.

I wonder if this dream had something to do with the fact that I cannot fly and leap as I once could and it’s a desire to be more alive as I was in those great days. Some of the dream may also source from my recent perusing of Charles Hapgood’s Maps of the Ancient Sea Kings.