My mother had twice announced that she'd had enough pain and suffering without admitting that her religion had completely failed her. Both times she planned to not wake up the next day. Both times brought a rude exposure to the harsh reality of the physical world the rest of us live in. She was learning that it was just as difficult to shut down the whole system without medical intervention as it was to fix it. She would not die because she could not die. Not only did the religion prevent her from getting well, it also prevented her from running away from her responsibilities, leaving her stuck in immobilized limbo.

The trip south on Woodstock featured a phenomenal confluence of visual treats: two planets, a comet, a waning crescent moon and leaping porpoise. The scene appeared heavenly and I accepted it as such. My mother's illness and her wish to "graduate" had opened a somewhat dangerous line of thinking, that what I'm living in is my own heaven. If so, it is a managed one. There is a lot of planning involved in generating so much freedom and trouble-free living. I must enjoy work, must manage and insure (physically and financially) my health and nothing is gained by using or abusing other people. It also helps to sidestep those seven deadly sins.

It is dangerous because it implies an aura of invincibility. As a pilot, that can be as fatal as unmanaged health. It also coincides with salad. I'd be wise to think about it carefully, not while driving or flying, lest I find myself trapped by a cage of twisted metal. I am not invincible. Things can go wrong on this layer.