A Wandering Mind: Part 17 — Scout

Wandering Mind
Mar 19, 2015 · 7 min read
Image by NASA, JPL-Caltech — Infrared Image of the Flame Nebula http://ow.ly/KdYEz

“I do not wish to hear about the moon from someone who has not been there.” -Mark Twain

Image: Solar falcon pendant found in the tomb of Tutankhamun via @AncientPast retrieved 12/24/14

Like far-sighted peregrine falcons, humans have wandered and scouted ahead to gather and hunt information and resources to ensure their survival. Our ancestors were attuned to their surroundings and used what was out in the open to anticipate threats. They paid attention to not only meteorological, biological and social warning signs but also, due to lack of technological scopes — tele, micro, peri, stetho– relied on dreams and gut feelings for guidance.

Image: Cave art of being with drum, possibly a shaman ow.ly/Kw4Ef

This strong bond with the natural world is evident in cave art that shows not only hunting scenes, but shamanic practices, including trance & healing dances, through which it was believed supernatural powers were activated, allowing them to heal, their spirits to leave their bodies to fight off evil or to control animals.

The imaginative power and inner workings of our mind lead us to possible futures through visualization. The initial events on a timeline will change — we’ll go off on tangents, form new offshoots, alter or eliminate inceptive visions — as we work through what we originally “see,” but the images we create ground us and we return to them to guide us, to keep us on track.

During our training my team and I went to our own type of flight school in our dreams or during trance-like visualization exercises, taking on the form of birds or other animals, spreading out our wings or stretching our legs using age-old shapeshifting techniques. As has been the case throughout history, we tapped into our built-in talent base, those collective experiences, accumulated and passed on from one generation to the next, that proved successful and guaranteed they’d live on while other tribes did not. As did our ancestors, the yet-to-be-invented technology that we needed for our scouting missions we piloted in dreaming. We each were different types of scouts. My talent was dreamscaping. At first, I created a variety of environments and conditions that mirrored the exploration of landscapes that we were sure to encounter on Earth-like planets. I pulled from my own life experiences and the places I had visited as our intial playgrounds.

…the last 30 minutes there were dirt, very bumpy roads. Getting to our “campsite” as we would call it would probably be the place where cowboys on the range would stay for the night in yesteryears–a place where there was a stream lined with limited trees. Waterfalls where the roots of the trees went across the stream.

This irrigation stream was surrounded by canyons and hills of the many-times pictured West. To me, though, this was a very special place to me and the others. Beautiful! … I eagerly waited for the time when I could ride my valiant horse…I had a wonderful time on my horse called Princess. Oh, I rode her like she was mine from the time I was born. We returned to our rural campsite. There was streams all over and when we came to one she would leap over it, and to me it was like I was riding a bucking rodeo horse. My seat really hurt after those times!

23:22 3 July “Campsite” (12 years old) Wyoming travelogue


The midday sun was so bright I was squinting even behind my sunglasses. The dry, prairie groundcover crunched under my tread. Occasionally a patch of earth was exposed, cracked open, and peering down into the mini crevices I could not see bottom. Every ten minutes of the walk I’d need to put chapstick on, take a swig of water so I’d not become as parched as the drought-stricken land. In the distance I see rock formations that at different parts of the day change colors like a chameleon depending on how the light danced on the different shades of rock and centuries of sediment. I’m almost to the small stream. You are there with the horses. I’m returning to the campsite after having spent the morning walking to see the sunrise and back. You slept in. I take another drink of water and cap the bottle and return it to my backpack…

“Camp” 18:03–18:17 29 July (41 years old)

Image ow.ly/KuV3A

…my uncle picked us up from the sandy beach and took us on a boat ride through a canyon. Here, it was

mystically beautiful. It was a tunnel of time, to me. This is because the sides or walls of the canyon were lined with layers of sand, clay, dirt, and other materials from the past which were eroded down 200 feet in some places by the river that now wound its way through the canyon we were exploring…under the many tons of stone and rock was a cave filled with darkness and the blue-green color of water and molds. The cave was carved from the now present river, which would, later in the future, be our layer in time…

23:36 2 July “River Tour” (12 years old) Wyoming travelogue


The winding river had led us here, a caved-in offshoot. We pulled the boat off to the side, creating our own landing in between rocks. I was amazed at each turn we made. The colors, the textures, new life growing in cracks, ancient life fossilized where it had died in the old river bed or on its banks. We were so close to history and at the same time making our own. What would be our living history? What would others far in the future wonder upon seeing the remains of us? When the river cut deeper into the earth, what shape would the future hold?

I turned around to find your head tilted down, hypnotized by the emerald green water. You sensed me and lifted your head. I slowly turned the rest of my body, moved closer to you, balancing carefully so as not to tip the boat. I bring my hands up to hold your face, like the walls of the canyon embracing the river on each side. My eyes dig deep into yours. I visually track the striations of your irises from one eye to the other, just as we have studied the sedimentary layers on one side of the canyon to the other.

I kiss your right cheek, then your left, your forehead, your lips. Our lips move together reading each other, reacting, responding, anticipating — like our boat tour through the canyon’s waters.

We break apart, but know that each contact like this deepens our tie, reshapes and adds to our life, reminds us where each of us came from, where we are, and helps us peer into our future.

“Canyon” 11:46–12:10 18 March (41 years old) Love at First


The InnerNet is made up of spaces and at the same time so intimate there is no space at all between us. During scouting test runs we needed to reconcile the relationship with space, that which we were reaching out independently to create and travel through, and the affinity for each other. Along with mapping previously undefined areas of space, we developed a cartography that outlined the attachments we made to each other, individually we explored the undiscovered continents that were us in this inner world.

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The story continues now and then here on Medium.

Everyone dreams. Are you one who realizes there is more to dreams than just what you do while sleeping? Check out @virtuonaut on Twitter to see who else throughout human history has commented on the value of dreams, wondered about the unknown and pondered the unexplained.

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This work is under creative commons licensing Attribution Non-Commercial No Derivatives 4.0 International

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — Images and other media may be protected by copyright. It is posted on this site in accordance with fair use principles. http://ow.ly/wLal0

    Wandering Mind

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    Exploring the Unknown & Unexplained

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