Chapter 8 - in which I try to revert to normality

So here I am the morning after, as we so often are, in a world that looks and feels completely different. What is it about the morning after that turns the best laid plans, the brightest dreams, the greatest discoveries into the stuff of childish fancy and Tom-foolery? In the sober light of the new day yesterday’s adventures with Gill are now a distant, embarrassing dream, and the quietly efficient rational mind is trying to sweep them under the chequered carpet of common sense, out of harm’s way – “Talking beetle? How ridiculous – don’t be absurd,” it keeps repeating.

“Having second thoughts?” I ask myself, but nearly leap out of my skin as my eyes notice a spider on the wall opposite. Why, you might ask, would I react so hysterically? A spider, after all, is hardly frightening for a grown man who is known for being down-to-earth and practical. Wait a second – was that me or the spider thinking just then?  As I glance at the spider suspiciously I sense it smiling mischievously. “It wasn’t me,” it thinks aloud in a kind of exaggerated stage whisper, “...didn’t say anything” and it turns away, busying itself with a spot of web maintenance, trying to look all innocent.

You see, my world is falling to pieces. I’m hearing insects talking and I’m not even certain which are my thoughts and which are theirs. Ready yourself, I feel the moment coming to a crescendo, something’s about to hit the fan...

“No, No, No, No” – that’s four big “no’s” which should be enough for anyone to get the message, “I’m definitely not having this”. A desperate rearguard action is being fought. I have to retreat to the tried-and-tested, the fortified high ground of pre-Faery mind – secure and proudly isolated from all other streams of what I consider inferior, sub-human consciousness, otherwise I’m going to lose the plot. “My mind is my castle” – I boldly declare, “an island unto myself”, and post “keep out”, “private property”, “trespassers will be prosecuted” and “insect teleportation strictly prohibited” signs all around. Phew! I’m safe again. There’ll be no more funny business. That’s a relief, and I happily revert back to my former self.

This seems to work. For the next two or three days I have no more problems with insects appearing unexpectedly in my room or trying to jump dimensions via my beetle mark, nor do I overhear any unsolicited remarks. “I’m the boss,” I keep telling myself. “It’s my mind and no one’s going to send me into a childish, fantasy delirium of fairies or talking arthropods.” I’m resolute as never before, even if I am muddling my taxonomy.

I immerse myself in my work, start jogging again to get back in shape, and go on a date with a lawyer who represented the company I work for in a libel action suit a few months ago – er...

“So how did it end?” you ask.

“The date?”

“No, not the date...”

“Coz I learnt a lot of very useful legal terminology that night, even if we didn’t quite hit it off. Funny the way lawyers seem to be wholly unimpressed by poetry. I’d have thought...” and for the next twenty minutes I’m discussing the need for a revival of the courtly love tradition – a pet subject that I like to bring up in conversation whenever I can, but eventually you steer me back with a pointed “is that the time?” glance at your watch and a careful folding of your napkin.

“How did it end?” The unanswered question hovers over me like a mayfly. Something in my mind is still putting up resistance, struggling to avoid the recollection. A moment’s silence as I gently coax the rational mind to let go. But it’s rigid, locked.

“Alpha” I hear myself give the command without understanding how or why, and amazingly, can feel the calm, peaceful meditative state returning – just like when Roger was providing emergency alpha support. Amazing! I simply side step the rational mind and I’m free to proceed – without conflict.

“How did you do that?” I hear you ask.

“Do what?” – I reply, bemused.

“You’re floating! You’re... I must be dreaming... where did he go?” I hear your voice fade as I let myself shift into a more comfortable frequency, allowing space and time to undulate, ripple and flow through and around me.

As you can see, my attempt to put back the clock, to return to normal reality has ended in abject failure, and here’s how...”