In my dreams I have always flown. This is literally true. Throughout
my life I have dreamed of a strange sort of flight. It has always
begun with something akin to a leap or jump. In my dreams, flight has
never been easy. It can only be sustained by an effort on my part. And
so I proceed, flying, yet falling, for awhile and then rising again by
some method I could never quite understand.

I have been a student for nearly a year now. My progress has been
steady but slow. I no longer fly in my dreams. This is true. I fly now
in my waking hours.
I understand now, at some level, how I stay aloft. It is through an
effort on my part that is strange, wonderful, and much like magic.