Flight out

I’ve known the intuitive only peripherally, so I won’t be among those called to her bedside, but a friend who has been tells me they’ve never seen a more graceful exit. And since none of us believe consciousness can be destroyed, some of us are genuinely excited for her, as I believe she is for herself. As anyone might be on the brink of a fabulous adventure.

How the idea originated I don’t remember, but when I was in ninth grade, I wrote to a number of foreign embassies, posing at my typewriter as a man undecided about where in Europe to vacation with his family. I asked the embassies to send me whatever materials they thought might be helpful in my research, and their response was a deluge of manila envelopes bursting with maps and brochures that I pored over in a state of mildly guilty wonder.

Yet I didn’t travel to Europe until I was in my mid-30s and can’t say I enjoyed myself so much when I did. Too preoccupied with money, for one thing. But to continue …

The entheogen research I’ve been doing reminds me of my 13-year-old self and his stacks of embassy envelopes, and here’s the question: Will my 58-year-old self be more proactive? Or will his travel plans be as glacially slow in coming to fruition for this as they were for Europe? Impossible to say.

Nevertheless, I have done one small thing, apart from the reading and the meetups … I’ve asked the intuitive to send us a postcard. If it isn’t too much trouble, of course, and if she’s so inclined.