This fruit bat insists on either sleeping on my back or on my pillow. After I wake up, shit my pants, go into shock, and laugh hysterically (almost simultaneously) I shoo the intruder and return to REM sleep only to feel the leathery hands of a mystery man sliding down my back as he shrieks an ancient unknown language into my ear: the fucking bat is back!
Spare me the battyman jokes, I thought of them first.
Now, I'm not one to dismiss daily occurrences as mere coincidence. Happenstance is something I don't understand as almost every seemingly odd incident is serendipitous in my mind: it was meant to be, as part of a process of revelation of the invisible hand at work in my life.
But this bat saga is tripping me out! As much as I try to dismiss it as just one of those things that results from man encroaching on the natural habitat of animals I am taken aback by just how strange it is. Why me? Why now? What if I was having sex?
My initial programmed response was one of fear. Bats are freakish little imps with fangs, that fly silently and are usually associated with death. Who wants the grim reaper resting on their back nightly? Certainly not I!
Upon investigation I learnt of the symbolism that the bat had in ancient cultures and with the native americans in particular. Bats essentially were symbols of extra sensory perception. They were seen as spiritual guides to the realm of dreams and psychic ability. Fascinating!
I've never been much of a dreamer but on the odd occasion that I had a dream I could remember it was usually associated with a feeling of deja vu at some point later on in the day.
One strange dream I had recently was of a phone call I made to my dearest friend's mother to ask if she had heard from him. Her response was confirmation of one of my worst fears: the death of a close friend or family member. After awaking at my regular time, I checked my blackberry to see what tidbits of raunch and slackness I had missed from my facebook or bbm while I slept and the first thing I saw was a GPS locator tag and emergency message from my friend. He has a panic button installed on his phone that alerts me and his mom if something has happened to him.
The same phone call I dreamt I had made hours earlier was the first thing I did on this Sunday morning. Needless to say I feared the fruition of my premonition. I shook uncontrollably as I called his parents with no response until his father finally answered and informed me that they didn't know where he was. Of course, I already knew this (but secretly hoped it wouldn't turn out that way) and the GPS locator showed me he was over 100 miles from where he was supposed to be. My vivid imagination saw every conceivable scenario, all involving the abduction and murder of my friend.
I planned his funeral, my tribute, and transported myself forward about 5 years into the future to visit his broken mother... all within 45 seconds of real time.
After 2 hours of pacing, bawling, and irritability, my friend's corpse removed his blackberry from his fat lazy ass and informed me that his soul had not yet left this plane and was still resident within a lumpy nymphomaniac that fell asleep on his phone, setting off the panic button and muffling the sound of my panicked phone calls the following morning.
What I suspect really happened was that he was being bent into a pretzel by his yoga teacher cum drill sergeant (pun and spelling intended) and in the midst of the daggering in the throes of ecstasy while destroying the flimsy furniture in the fuck shop where he chose to lay his head that night, he accidentally set off the panic button on the phone he had already placed on silent so as not to be disturbed by the phone calls of the backup booty calls he had pre-arranged.
I went from relief, to annoyance, to complete marvel at the power of the mind and how the real world and dream/spirit world often intersect.
If, as my research is revealing, this insistent bat is neither an omen of death nor an annoying upper St Andrew neighbour, but rather an invitation to learn more about the world not seen with virgin eyes then what do I do about that?
If I choose to accept this could either be a fascinating and scary journey into realms unknown for spiritual growth beyond measure or a first class ticket to Timbuktu for tea with Puff the Magic Dragon.
Stay tuned to see where I end up.
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