Well this was an extremely weird section of the book and not one that I would write these days. I was wrestling with the nature of consciousness, reality and who we really are. There was some humour in it too.
I’m not quite sure I have got the tense right throughout this section. I’ll revisit later.
23.
Looking back now, Messny did not seem to remember exactly when it happened.
He had been sitting on the bench in the park eating a sandwich and throwing bread to the birds. The sparrows were pecking around his feet. It was one of those hot, languid days in London that feels so humid and hot that nobody wants to move. A cool breeze was stirring the trees and producing enough of a cooling effect to stop a person melting but not enough to stop their shirt clinging to their back. Not that it was at all unpleasant. The air was scented with freshly cut grass and everything buzzed in a lazy manner. It was the kind of day that was good for lying on your back on the grass, reading a little, snoozing a little, and sinking into that drowsy summer feel. Messny had been sitting on the bench eating lunch and having a break from the exertions of lying down but it did not prevent him from resting his eyes and drifting.
He became aware that a strange tingling sensation had started to spread through his body. It started as a delicate buzz around the edge of his consciousness but then it seemed to grow as if a dynamo had switched on in the centre of his body. By the time he became properly aware of it he knew that it had been growing for some time. It was accompanied by a sensation of great relaxation and lightness. Yet strangely he did not feel at all sleepy. He just was not inclined to move and although his brain felt remarkably alert it was not inclined to analyse the cause of these strange feelings. He simply leaned back and allowed them to develop. He was content to observe as they pleasantly passed through him in waves.
There was a sudden jerk followed by sensations of a most peculiar kind. Messny felt himself rise up into the air to float like a balloon. From where he was, on high, he looked down to see himself sitting sprawled upon the park bench looking for all the world to be fast asleep.
It gave him quite a shock.
The first thought that came into his head was that he had died. But he could see himself breathing. It was difficult to rationalise what had occurred. Where was he? And how was he seeing? He decided that it had to be a lucid dream or some kind of hallucination. He had probably drifted off to sleep in the warm sun and was dreaming. Even so, it was quite a novel experience to be so fully aware of himself while dreaming. It was so extremely clear and vivid. All the colours of the park were glowing. He was able to think so logically and rationally, yet there he was tens of feet in the air with a perspective down on the trees and bushes that he had never had in his life. He was seeing it from up high for the first time. He wondered if all dreams were this clear but blurred into unreality on waking?
Messny had continued to drift around looking down on birds and trees and thinking to himself how remarkably real and un-dreamlike it felt. He only found it slightly perturbing to find that he could consciously drift down to take a close look at the back of his own head. That was strange.
The fear that he might be dead resurfaced. He might still be breathing but that did not necessarily mean that he was alive. What if he had suffered a massive stroke or heart attack? He pushed the thoughts away. He did not much like the idea that he was some kind of ghost.
Messny began practicing moving around. He seemed to be able to alter his position by sheer will. If he willed himself to move he found himself going in the direction he had wanted. At first he wasn’t too adept at speed or direction but with a little practice he found he became quite proficient.
Messny homed in for a close inspection of himself. He wished to allay his fears. It calmed him down to see that he was not only breathing normally, but his colour and general appearance looked good. He did not think any great calamity had befallen him.
It was at this time that events became jumbled and out of hand. Messny found himself spinning as if caught in a whirlpool. The park and bench became a blur as reality spun. The whole world had been caught in a spin drier.
Unlike with normal similar events there was no feeling of nausea. He simply allowed himself to be whizzed around. He began to glimpse the park behind this – as if the spinning was merely superimposed on the background of normality – as if there were layers of reality.
Then as suddenly as the spinning had begun it slowed and stopped. Messny settled back into the reality he was used to, though he could glimpse the other superimposed as a hazy image all around.
When everything had settled Messny found that he was no longer floating free. He was confined to a more normal perspective, back at ground level with a fixed outlook. Yet his body was directly opposite and no longer sleeping peacefully. He was sitting up fully awake with an absurdly gaping mouth and startled expression. He was staring straight back at himself.
The force of that stare made Messny self-conscious. It was not usual for anyone to stare so hard directly at someone. To have yourself staring at you was absolutely peculiar and bizarre.
Messny had received quite a few shocks in the last few minutes but this was one of the biggest. But he took it in his stride. There had to be a rational explanation.
He attempted to move as he had been doing previously but could not. On looking down he found that he was someone else entirely. He was looking through someone else’s eyes down at that person’s body.
Nothing had prepared him for it. He was in someone else’s body. He was in the body of a middle-aged woman wearing a smart costume. She was fairly stout and not exceptionally attractive. The shock was immense.
Messny rose to his feet looked across at himself and presented a mirror image of his own shock, except that by now the startled expression on his face had given way to one of absolute horror.
No sooner had Messny absorbed this new perspective when that overlying layer of reality began to spin again and he was once again caught up in that cosmic hair-drier. When it resettled Messny had found himself standing on the path grimacing and staring towards the other bench. He glanced down to confirm what he already knew. He was back in his own body. Standing by the other bench was the woman whose body he had so recently inhabited. She was stricken. Her face contorted and eyes bulging as she stared aghast at Messny.
Both jerked back in astonishment with minds reeling, collecting their wits and vainly trying to make sense of what had just occurred.
In a complete fluster she lowered her eyes, shook her head and hurried off down the path as fast as she could manage. Not once did she look back.
Messny sat back down with a jolt.
Huh !! Astral travel with a twist 🙂
Yes – I think I was in my mystical phase back then!