Roxy, the levitationist
Roxy believed that she could learn the art of self-levitation. She wasn’t lazy about trying – I’ll say that much for her. She studied shamanism, yoga, trances and mystical rapture. I met her at “Levitate Yoga” in New York City.
“Lots of people have learned how to levitate,” she told me. “One eye witness saw Saint Teresa of Avila levitate two feet off the ground for a half hour. Indian fakirs who have mastered the art of levitation say that adepts who learn to control the ‘akasha’, or vital fluid, that is the moving thought of the universal soul can levitate. In 1906, Clara Cele, a school girl from South Africa who was supposedly possessed by demons rose five feet in the air. Dozens of witnesses were there, and Clara only came back to the ground when sprinkled with holy water.”
I admired Roxy for her commitment, although I questioned her cause. The first time I slept with her, though, I dreamed about flying. In my dream, I learned how to go into a controlled trance and rise into the air. Once aloft, I could float like a kite, rising slowly until the wind caught me and carried me off. I floated effortlessly over Manhattan, and out to sea. When I awoke, though, I was still bound by gravity.
Of course the dream was so much fun that I wanted to sleep with Roxy all the time. I yearned for more flying dreams.
Many nights, we would sit in Roxy’s apartment. She would meditate for hours at a time, trying to get in touch with akasha. Sometimes I would meditate, and sometimes I would read Carlos Castaneda books in another room. When we made love, I felt almost weightless. Roxy glowed with her infectious faith.
One day, as I was coming home from the store, I saw what looked like a kite floating over New York, framed by the Manhattan skyline. It was far away, so I couldn’t see it clearly – a red speck in the blue sky. But it entranced me. I stood and gazed after it as it floated out of sight — out to sea. When I got back to our apartment, Roxy was gone. .
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