by Ken Renshaw
"It is getting very interesting and puzzling. Something strange seems to be going on; several simultaneous related things are happening, first, there was Uriel telling me to learn about space-time. Then, I get a new civil case involving psychics. I have had to read up on ESP and something called remote sensing. Then, you take me to hear Herondus who talks about the same things. Then, your friend Elise tells me that Uriel may be related to me somehow in future space-time. Then, a consultant shows me mathematical theories that suggests there are shortcuts in space-time that we can use to perceive distant, future or, past things!"
"Watch out for them shortcuts. Duck when you see the next Then coming," Tina giggled. "Really, I don't understand much about space-time and all that stuff. You know how I am on math. But, I do have an appreciation for psychic stuff. I thought you didn't like to talk about it."
"A couple of weeks ago, yes. Now, I have no choice. I am very interested."
"I guess it is too late to warn you about them shortcuts," she giggled again.
"I am going to the desert tomorrow, just for the day. Be back in late afternoon or evening. Would you come along and we could talk some more about all this? I'll even take you for what might be a spectacular glider ride."
"You have fallen out of your shortcut at a good time. I need a day off from grading papers and cramming for exams. You know how I love the desert. I do have to get back tomorrow night. About the glider ride: we have been intimate before, but won't both of us in that little cockpit on your sailplane be a little too friendly? You barely fit in alone."
"I will use one of the gliders from the flying school there. They have two big seats, one behind the other for instructors and students.
"Don't you have to prepare for your court case?"
"My time is really my own when I prepare for a case. I think I need some time for my mind to assimilate all the new ideas. Tomorrow is an unusual weather day, one that might happen only every year or two, producing a wave at CrystalAire. Flying on wave days is really fun."
"I'm in, if you can assure me there are really two seats. Can I bring a picnic lunch?"
"Wonderful!" I replied. "It might be kind of cold so bring a jacket or sweater."
After we made meeting arrangements, I hung up the phone and thought, 'I really like this lady, I wonder where she buys her perky pills.' I noticed I felt a nice warm feeling in my heart region. 'That's a new phenomenon. Some kind of shortcut between us?'
****
When I was a few minutes away from Tina's apartment, I called to say I was nearly there. She said she would meet me at the street so I wouldn't have to find a place to park. Again, I noticed this unusual feeling or energy around my heart. 'Interesting,' I thought.
As I turned the corner onto her street, I saw her standing at the curb, wearing light blue jeans, white tennis shoes, and a brown patterned blouse. 'That is a nice leggy look,' I thought. She was rocking up and down on her toes, apparently in anticipation of the outing. She saw me, smiled broadly, picked up a picnic basket and a down jacket, and walked off the curb. As I stopped, she put the basket and her jacket in the back seat, and slid over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Tina always has an impish smile, as though she was up to something, or about to present me with a surprise.
She looked at me in mock seriousness and said, "Two seats in the glider–you promised?"
That broke the ice and I laughed. "I called the airport and they have reserved a two seater for us."
"Are we going to fly far or land somewhere else? Should I bring the picnic in case we get stranded on that dry lake?"
"No," I said, "We will take off and get towed toward the mountains. If we are lucky, there will be a wave we can fly back and forth on. We might fly for about an hour and land back where we started."
"What is a wave doing in the desert?"
"The wind blows north from LA into the desert in advance of an approaching storm. If it is at the right speed and direction as is passes over the mountains, the wind does a thing like water flowing over a rock in a creek. It flows down and then jumps up into a wave. This desert wave can go up tens of thousands of feet. You are in for a great experience."
Tina smiled her impish smile and said, "This sounds like fun, or maybe a little scary?"
"I think fun. In terms of soaring, this is like a day off."
"Can you tell me more about your new case? Elise was quite impressed with your interest in channeling. Oh, what did you think of Herondus?"
I paused for a minute. "I must say I was impressed. One of my assets as an attorney is my B.S. meter. I can sense a scam or a lie or a fraud very easily. I had the feeling that it was all very real, although I am not yet too comfortable with the idea of intelligences speaking from other dimensions."
She interrupted, "Maybe your B.S. meter is really a psychic perception. You might be a psychic practitioner and not realize it. Have you heard from Uriel lately?"
"No, but I have been learning about the things he suggested, out of necessity for my lawsuit. Events seem to be conspiring to lead me on that path."
"That seems to be the way things work for me when I am headed in the right direction," she observed. "And Herondus?"
"First, I was very surprised by the meeting itself. I expected the audience would be a few dozen New Age weirdoes or old hippies. They looked more like West LA or Hollywood types, mostly affluent, pretty together as a lot. I was expecting a more Haight-Asbury, San Francisco crowd than a Rodeo Drive or Melrose crowd.
"Herondus upset me a little bit by running down logical thinking. That is how I make a living! But, everything he was saying about conscious thinking being only a small fraction of our brain usage is supported by a whole lot of scientific research. I must admit that I use logical thinking to present a case for certainty, as a shield against people knowing what I really am feeling, That's what lawyers do. His whole idea of vulnerability is a bit foreign to me. I equate vulnerability to weakness, something one must avoid."
Tina wrinkled her nose and said, "Oh, I guess that is a guy thing, being the warrior, defending the tribe, protecting the traditional ways. That kind of vulnerability is concerned about making sure you don't have to experience something, such as being killed or having children or a wife carried off into slavery. That kind of vulnerability starts with, 'I don't trust you, so I have to defend myself against you.'"
"There is another kind of vulnerability that begins with trust. I encourage my high school students to practice being vulnerable in my creative writing class. When they have a writing assignment, I encourage them to write from their hearts, pick out topics that have personal meaning, explore ideas without worrying about what the other kids will think. In class, after the kids hand in their assignments, I pick a couple to read to the class, without identifying the author. The students trust me to protect their anonymity, although some times the topic is such that the other students can guess the author. Then, the students critique the writing. The authors can trust me to control the discussion to prevent malicious comments and bullying and make the criticism constructive. We sometimes get to address some very personal feelings. That is a good educational experience.
"My friends often talk about our emotional vulnerabilities in relationships. One of my friends allowed herself to trust a guy, she fell deeply in love with him and then had her heart broken when he dumped her. She is unconsciously having difficulty trusting and having that vulnerability with any man again. We always ask ourselves, 'Do I really want to risk really getting deeply involved with this guy, and possibly get dumped in the end? Is he honest with me, or will he mislead me into thinking we are developing a relationship, when from his viewpoint, I am temporary entertainment while he hunts for a mate that will fit into his professional goals or will please his parents with their ethnic or religious values?' We usually do this questioning on an intuitive basis: we go with our gut or heart and feelings. There is little logic in it. Maybe that is why we can be so vulnerable."
I sensed she was o
n the verge of a rant, so I interrupted. "Thanks, I think I understand a little more. But isn't this a genetic thing, instinctual, that is mostly in women? I can't recall ever having a conversation with one of my friends about fear of getting too involved because we might get dumped. Sometimes one friend who is getting involved with a lady will be warned, 'Be careful, you might get caught.' Caught is the opposite of dumped." I was starting to feel a little uneasy about where this conversation led.
She paused for a long time before replying, perhaps intuiting my feelings.
"I think it is a fundamental psychological need of everyone to be known, recognized, and understood. People use various shields to prevent this, for instance, my friend, the one who got dumped, has all kinds of ways to ward off attempts to know who she is. Being known starts with trust, which she has little of, now.
"Oh, I have a good example of male vulnerability. In Herondus' weekends, he makes opportunities for the people in those first few rows to get help with personal problems. At the weekend I went to, there was a young man who said he was in love with a woman but somehow didn't feel quite right about marrying her. He wanted to know what he should do. Herondus started questioning him, like an attorney, in cross-examination. Every answer led to another insightful question. It became apparent to the audience that the man had irrelevant opinions and assumptions that were stopping him. Herondus made jokes, not malicious ones, of many of his answers to illustrate the man's error in thinking. Eventually, they got to the crux of the matter: the man had a big case of puppy love for his teenage baby sitter when he was eight. One day, after months of great rapport, which the man interpreted as love, the babysitter arrived very upset. When the boy tried to get his usual attention, the baby sitter locked him in the closet for two hours while she cried. The boy thought it was his fault she was unhappy, and felt shame for it, and decided to never to trust any one with his love again.
"After the man had this revelation he was happy again and thanked Herondus. Then, Herondus gave a little lecture to the whole audience about the issues in the man's problem and how they might pertain to our lives.
"The man had to be willing to be vulnerable to ask a question and then go through the public embarrassment in the dialog that followed. He had to trust Herondus to guide him to the answer of his most pressing life question. He had to be willing to know himself, no matter what might be found, and to be known by the audience."
"I can see how that works," I said. "But, being vulnerable isn't really about being willing to be embarrassed in a cross-examination, is it?"
"No, it’s more a matter of going to the depths. My friend who got dumped has to keep everything superficial. She will only dip her big toe into a relationship. Being vulnerable is like being willing to wade into a relationship up to your waist with the possibility of going all-in, over your head."
She laughed and added, “Maybe you could give me a soaring metaphor. We are going to the desert, not the beach."
"OK," I replied, pausing for a moment. "Some power plane pilots take glider lessons only long enough to get Gliders added to their pilot's license. Then, they never go gliding or soaring again.
"Some people take lessons, get their pilot's license, and then only come out for a few days of flying around the airport, never getting out of landing range.
"Others, like me, I guess, make soaring a life passion. We are willing to take our chances flying great distances over barren lands, sometimes ending up far from the airfield, or on a dry lake bed or somewhere."
She laughed and added, "Even risking conversations with Mason jars. You have the idea."
My turning off the freeway to get gas interrupted us.
After our stop, when she got back in the car carrying two cups of coffee, she had her impish grin that suggested she was up to something.
"It's cold and the clouds look like rain. Are we really going soaring or is this some kind of trick?"
I laughed and said, "No, this is good wave weather."
"I'd better see this wave or else I'll never believe anything you say again. This had better not be some version of 'come up to my place and I'll show you my etchings.' Here, I have a treat for you."
She reached into her jacket pocket and produced two Snickers bars. She unwrapped the end of one and handed it to me. "Try this," She said.
"Oh, no thanks, I'm not much on sweets."
"How long has it been since you have had a Snickers bar?"
"I can't remember the last time I had one."
"Be vulnerable and try it. Trust me, they are good. There is little risk in eating a Snickers bar. Go for it! Trust me!"
I took a bite and said, "Actually, this is pretty good."
She unwrapped her bar. took a bite, and an expression of great pleasure came over her face. "Some times, I would do anything for a Snickers bar."
"I'll bear that in mind."
She laughed and gave me an expression of mock scorn, unbuckled her seat belt and slid over next to me and said, "Are we almost there, yet?"
After about a minute of silence while she subtly snuggled up to me, she said. "I know a fun game to pass the time. You concentrate on a picture of something and I'll try to tell you what it is. See if I can make a mental shortcut between us"
She paused and seemed to be sensing that I was a little uncomfortable with psychic stuff.
"Be vulnerable. Give it a try. Start now."
I quietly stared down the road.
After about twenty seconds she said, "It looks like something red, a red spot, and it's bouncing up and down, kind of like a yo-yo. What were you picturing?"
She saw the shocked expression on my face and said, "Come on, don't cheat, tell me."
"I was watching the red taillight on the car in front of us. It is moving up and down because the road is not perfectly level. That's amazing! Can you read my mind?"
"No, that is a kind of game my brother and I invented, for when we were kids, on trips with my parents. All I can get is vague images. I think I have an intuition about how you are feeling about things when we talk. For instance, right now you are a little upset, not with me, but with the idea that I can perceive what you are seeing."
"You’re right about that. I understand about 8-D shortcuts and all that on an intellectual level, but it is against the scientific belief system ingrained in me by all my previous education and professional experience. I am going to have to get used to it. How do you change an ingrained belief system?"
"Exposure, and dialogue are what I use. These high school students I teach have some weird belief systems. The first step seems to be getting them off their certainty in what they believe. That is a vulnerability thing."
We were silent for a while as Tina looked at the scenery. The trip from LA to the desert starts with industrial buildings lining the freeway. That scene gives way to older housing tracts with an abundance of trees. Then, as one moves to the desert, the newer housing tracts have fewer trees. After that, the countryside turns to dry chaparral covered hills and occasional mobile homes. It always amazes me that people in these wide-open spaces seem to accumulate clutter around their houses: derelict cars, rusty horse trailers, oceangoing boats on cradles, miscellaneous building materials, and storage sheds. In places, there are the isolated tracts of homes, sitting like islands in the desert, surrounded by high beige cinder block walls, where the open space has been covered with cookie-cutter homes crowded together a few feet apart. People buy them because the homes are cheaper, and then spend enormous amounts of money and time commuting an hour or more to work.
"I really don't know much about you," said Tina, "Where were you born, raised, and what was it like where you grew up, what were your friends like?"
We told each other stories until we reached the airport. I noticed that I felt closer to her. She was right, it took a little trust in her for me to openly tell her about myself. I did start to understand about trust and vulnerability.
As we turned on the road leading to CrystalAire Airpo
rt, Tina said, "It's overcast, you can't even see the tops of the mountains. It doesn't look like a soaring day."
I said, "It looks really good for a wave to develop. See how the clouds are moving fast from the direction of the mountains. If the wind shifts a little bit it will be just right for a wave. We had better be ready to fly when the condition appears."
We drove to the operations building, a slightly weather-worn mobile home with a swamp cooler on top, not running today because it was not hot. The door was open and inside I met Dave, the tow pilot. I arranged to rent the high performance two-place sailplane. Dave said he would send the office girl, Celia, to tow it to the takeoff line with the ATV.
Dave said, "The other day there was a strange nerdy guy out here who asked which sailplane trailer belonged to you. He looked it over for a while, but didn't get into it or anything, as far as I could tell."
"Thanks, I'll check it out after we are all ready to go in the two-place. Don't want to miss the wave opportunity. Was he a white, male Caucasian, five-five, stocky build, grey crew cut, gold rimmed glasses?"
Dave looked puzzled and said, "Yea, a friend of yours?"
"No, but please call me at home if you ever see him again."
As we walked over to our two-place, Tina observed, "Wow, the wings are really big and shiny, and they have these little ears going up at the ends."
"The wingspread is eighteen meters, nearly sixty feet. This one is a lot harder to put together than mine, which is only fifteen meters. These things at the end make it fly farther."
"Do I get to sit in front or back?"
"Front. I can fly from the back seat and see over your shoulders."
I completed my preflight check, inspecting the wings, tail, controls, and cockpit. Celia came over with the ATV and I hooked the rope to the big glider. Tina and walked holding the wingtips off the ground while Celia towed us to the staging area.
"Let's see how you fit in the front seat,"
Tina got in and I showed her how to adjust the seat belt and shoulder harness.
