One November evening, as I walked along the edge of a lake, I felt a breeze that crossed my skin and penetrated my spirit. It filled me so completely with a feeling of pure optimism and limitless ambition that I laughed out loud. Suddenly, I was in a state of mind so amazing, and everything in life became so clear and obvious, that I knew at that moment I was experiencing something special.
I was feeling something larger than this small town and the lake that adorned it. Bigger than the hills which provided a backdrop for the rippling waters. Bigger than the national forest that lies behind the hill, and even bigger than the ocean that the hills roll into. It was a massive and suddenly distinct intuitive perception. I became aware of this insight into the reality of another world right in front of me. It became an essential meaning of something significant, and it was initiated by some unknown occurrence of the moment’s experience.
I’d had this feeling once before. At times I have been standing around doing nothing interesting or significant, and suddenly become overwhelmed with an incredible emotion that inspires me to move the world. I also remember one day when I was walking down a long, cement flood channel I sensed this feeling. I must have been around thirteen; I was in the seventh grade. The walls were fifteen feet high on both sides, and only a few puddles of water were left over from an October rain. I felt it then. I prayed to God and asked the devil to make themselves known. I shouted because I was alone, but I was not alone. A breeze followed and pushed leaves off the ground, and I felt empowered. I raised my hands as if I could move objects with my mind. The only thing that moved were my feet. I walked foreword with determination until the feeling wore off. That was the first time I remember feeling this way.
It was soon after that my parents had me institutionalized for many of my crazy thoughts. They were always concerned with my ideas. I was judged for my thoughts, even at the early age of nine, when I began having to take Ritalin for ADD. This was before ADD was a household name. I had been committed for thirty long days, and it was there that my father hired shrinks to test my mind. It turned out that I was a genius. At the time he was not convinced someone so stupid could be so smart, so at the cost of another seven hundred dollars he insisted on a retest, with the same results. He always loved to tell the story of how the doctors said I was “playing with them.” I am interested in doing this again, but I am afraid I would over think it and not score very well.
Over the next year, I had small feelings of this great insight that would come and go. One day while on a walk I had that same sensation, and it produced the revelations of the idea of the apps in our mind. It was a moment of keen insight that some call an epiphany, or a revelation.
I remember it happing again when I was about fiftee`n or sixteen. One morning I woke up before dawn to a Miles Davis song, “In a Silent Way.” The first couple of minutes took me there. I got up and walked out to the street and lost it. I once had it in Monterrey Bay just before dawn, and actually wrote a poem that captured that feeling before it left. Then it left.
Perhaps you get this feeling in church and call it holy; maybe you get it from a syringe and call it euphoria, or in a pipe and call it high, or maybe in a pill and call it ecstasy, or in a hobby and call it passion. Whatever that obsession is, you can convert that vice into a device.
This book is the journey to discover the mysterious breeze that appears with no wind in the air. The ability to capture these emotions and take them with me anywhere, and activate them when I need to.