the death dream

I had gone on a short drive, alone. It was to a spot I'd been to previously - the start of a hiking trail. The road to it was steeply uphill and more dirt track than road, but my car could handle it fine. The trail started on private property, and there was room for one car to park next to the gate. The parking spot and gate were at a sharp right hand bend to the trail heading up to that point. There was no other car parked - I was alone. I parked, but instead of getting through the gate and on to the hiking trail, I stood on a rocky outcrop on the other side of the path. I looked at the sky. The sky was a bright, cloudless blue. I closed my eyes, face to the sun, feeling it warm me.

I opened my eyes. The sky was still blue and cloudless. I looked down for the first time, and was surprised to see it was not a hillside, but a straight drop to the ocean!

The ocean was a deep blue, almost black, despite the bright sunlight, suggesting it was very deep. The cliff I was standing on the precipice of was pretty steep - I'm not sure how I ended up in such a precarious spot. I tried taking a step backward towards safety, but I was not on level ground - the rock was at a steep incline behind me and I was unable to step backward. My attempt to step backward caused me to lose my footing and actually take a small (but quite steep) step forward and downward.

I was scared.

I tried to sit against the rock face I was on, in the hope that it would give me more grip and a chance at dragging myself back up to safety - however, I was unable to sit. I had a heavy backpack that got in the way when I leaned backward, and leaning backward caused me to slide forward and down even more.

I was beginning to panic.

I tried to guage the height of the cliff and the steepness of the descent. I considered sliding down instead of trying to get up - what if it was safer to get to the ocean and somehow try to swim ot safety, maybe lose the backpack once I hit the water?

The struggle of trying to stay in one place and not slide down any further was beginning to exhaust me. I was ready to give up. It felt like there was no hope of getting out of that spot, and anything I did would simply prolong my struggle.

I felt like the best course of action was to take a clean leap forward so that I could plunge straight off the cliff and hit the water feet first.

I was conscious of my inability to swim, and worse, the incredible weight of my backpack which seemed very firmly secured to me and was surely going to drag me down with it.

I looked up again, then closed my eyes, felt the warmth of the sun for what might be the last time ever,. I savoured that feeling for as long as I felt I could, and then opened my eyes.

I was in bed, and my morning alarm was about to ring - it literally rang seconds later.

I woke up, glad to be alive.

ps: this is the spot, based on the route I drove in the dream: Robin's Well

Video killed the bookworm

I love to read. I used to read a lot. In fact, I was never even a fan of podcasts, let alone videocasts. However, I realize now that I've been consuming most of my information through videos. I do occasionally take the time to read, although it's mostly email - specifically, there is one mailing list of sorts I'm subscribed to. Actually, make that two, but the second one has lost my interest, so while I'm still subscribed it just fills my inbox while I muster the courage to select-all and delete.

Anyway, back to the first one. An article caught my attention today, and I clicked on it and started reading it.

My attention was drawn by the headline, of course, which set this article apart from others in the newsletter like bonobos' use of combining sounds to produce more nuanced and complex expressions, and something about dinosaurs drinking water beside their prey at ancient water bodies(!)

I digress though. The article read like any other, until I happened to notice the name of the author. Sabine! She was the person who introduced me to nautilus, probably from a sponsorship embedded in one of her videos. And yes, I subscribe to her science news videocast. My mind instantly switched from "reading" to a simulated narration of the article in her voice, complete with her German intonation and characteristic facial expressions (she is a pretty good science videocaster, I'd say!)

The change in my reading experience stunned me. 

Reading may be efficient, but listening and watching people speak taps into our humanity... even if it's something as dry as competing theories for cosmic inflation, and the listening and watching is run by a wildly imperfect simulation in my head. 

It's no wonder video killed my inner bookworm.