know what dimensions everything had from moment to moment. My studies repeatedly informed me that size, as well as time, space, other beings, every object and what I thought I could see from my own eyes were all illusion, a whim of creation that we sparks of energy all shared. If that were indeed the case, I mused, it was a pervasive and complex illusion, one that I could not dispel without a great deal more practice at mind control than I had yet accomplished. I just wanted my body to go back to the size and shape it had been before the treatment, so I could go on attempting to escape from it.
I had hoped that I might be able to achieve astral projection, but had not yet managed it. Day after day, at the hour appointed by my quotidian stars, I had put myself into a comfortable position from which I could lift my astral body and tour the stars. I must confess that the only part of me that went wandering was my mind. Every time I began to feel truly relaxed, I thought of other things I could be doing. I suppose my astral self was quite busy during those times. I discovered it was best attempted when planetside, particularly in a non-technically-furnished domicile. Even the slightest little buzz seemed to distract me, let alone the ambient noises of a working warship. But if one has already found peace in a very quiet place, why would one have to seek further peace? It was already there around one. I realized that I might be missing the point. To be able to achieve a meditative state when all around me was chaos was the intended goal. I took on an instructor for meditation, but as I kept checking to see if he was meditating, and how it looked different than my meditation, I realized he was more distraction than help. I offered my thanks but did not renew his contract. I think he, too, was relieved.
Instead, I began personal studies into the various methods of achieving higher consciousness. For the first week or so, I had fallen asleep each session, only waking when the temple bell was sounded by one of the house valetbots, which had approached my couch as if on little cat feet and retreated afterward. By this time, several weeks into my studies, I was much more proficient. Wakeful mindfulness was my watchword. I still had difficulty removing my mind from my surroundings, but I was getting better. Meditation was, as the experts decreed, most restful without having to resort to sleep.
My difficulty was in preventing my thoughts from becoming occupied by plans. I was fascinated by the thought of exploring Uctu space. My mother had been there several times, first as a young officer, later as a captain, then as First Space Lord. She had not gone since before my elder brother did his two years’ obligatory military service. I found my mind casting after her into the unknown—a far more intriguing journey than any the astral plane seemed to offer. I imagined that I could see her on the bridge of her flagship, though she looked rather younger than she did now. Not that time had been unkind to her. She was often mistaken for a decade, sometimes two, younger than she was.
“My lord,” came the softest of inquiries from just inside my sitting room door. Parsons had entered, ignoring the do not enter sign on my suite’s outer door, not to mention the five locks and intruder-apprehension system active within the anteroom. I didn’t bother to guess how he had done it; most likely even my wildest imaginings were too tame to account for his proficiency. I peeled open one eye to behold him, as serene a presence as any lama. In truth, I was furious.
“Have I forgotten an appointment?” I asked, with a hint of asperity. “For no other reason, Parsons, could I imagine that you would interrupt my hour of serenity.”
He was unmoved by my ire. He did not even trouble to lift an eyebrow.
“I regret to discommode you, my lord, but a matter has arisen. I thought it best that you hear it accompanied by the background information that
I had hoped that I might be able to achieve astral projection, but had not yet managed it. Day after day, at the hour appointed by my quotidian stars, I had put myself into a comfortable position from which I could lift my astral body and tour the stars. I must confess that the only part of me that went wandering was my mind. Every time I began to feel truly relaxed, I thought of other things I could be doing. I suppose my astral self was quite busy during those times. I discovered it was best attempted when planetside, particularly in a non-technically-furnished domicile. Even the slightest little buzz seemed to distract me, let alone the ambient noises of a working warship. But if one has already found peace in a very quiet place, why would one have to seek further peace? It was already there around one. I realized that I might be missing the point. To be able to achieve a meditative state when all around me was chaos was the intended goal. I took on an instructor for meditation, but as I kept checking to see if he was meditating, and how it looked different than my meditation, I realized he was more distraction than help. I offered my thanks but did not renew his contract. I think he, too, was relieved.
Instead, I began personal studies into the various methods of achieving higher consciousness. For the first week or so, I had fallen asleep each session, only waking when the temple bell was sounded by one of the house valetbots, which had approached my couch as if on little cat feet and retreated afterward. By this time, several weeks into my studies, I was much more proficient. Wakeful mindfulness was my watchword. I still had difficulty removing my mind from my surroundings, but I was getting better. Meditation was, as the experts decreed, most restful without having to resort to sleep.
My difficulty was in preventing my thoughts from becoming occupied by plans. I was fascinated by the thought of exploring Uctu space. My mother had been there several times, first as a young officer, later as a captain, then as First Space Lord. She had not gone since before my elder brother did his two years’ obligatory military service. I found my mind casting after her into the unknown—a far more intriguing journey than any the astral plane seemed to offer. I imagined that I could see her on the bridge of her flagship, though she looked rather younger than she did now. Not that time had been unkind to her. She was often mistaken for a decade, sometimes two, younger than she was.
“My lord,” came the softest of inquiries from just inside my sitting room door. Parsons had entered, ignoring the do not enter sign on my suite’s outer door, not to mention the five locks and intruder-apprehension system active within the anteroom. I didn’t bother to guess how he had done it; most likely even my wildest imaginings were too tame to account for his proficiency. I peeled open one eye to behold him, as serene a presence as any lama. In truth, I was furious.
“Have I forgotten an appointment?” I asked, with a hint of asperity. “For no other reason, Parsons, could I imagine that you would interrupt my hour of serenity.”
He was unmoved by my ire. He did not even trouble to lift an eyebrow.
“I regret to discommode you, my lord, but a matter has arisen. I thought it best that you hear it accompanied by the background information that
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