I climb in, no water yet; lush rust cupped hands encircle the drain. Up and off goes my smock�a soft, comfort blanket releasing its design smiling of crimson red and fluid cream. Uh Oh! No undies! Goody! Goody! The way God made me�and the way the Great Mother tamed and groomed me.

Water flows like tropical island rain. It moistens and evaporates. I wash and scrub each limb, the face, body whole, stepping out dry, smock donned. I bow to the Great Cleansing Gift.

�What's in store next?� I muse knowing Cycle Dear, though still in throes, loves passionately the return to its birth and dallies only on curves. A shiny green-blue dragonfly hovers eye level, spinning its miniature helicopter wings. �Like a lift?�

�Sure, why not! (cute, friendly bug) Thanks.� Within an inspiration, I'm deposited comfortably against a post at one side of the pasture, back resting, legs stretched straight out. Wow! What an expansive spot for contemplation--a panoramic view, exact from control center. I'll be funny. � Houston , come in.�

Life is good. The sweet smell of grass enlivens my heart. The sun caresses me warm. If I could only stay here forever! --only in my dreams, I know. I acknowledge the magnetic pull of the Cycle Brigade, promising to pull religiously until (if ever) I am beyond its grasp.

�Thy Wish Is My Command.�

What's that? Interesting thought. �I welcome you.�

�Thy Wish Is My Command.�

�Well, again, welcome, Houdini, genie.�

�Thy Wish Is My Command.�

� Houston , I read you loud and clear.�

�Thy Wish Is My Command. Try it.�

  �Try what?�

  �Thy Wish Is My Command. Try it.�

�I don't have any wishes. What would I want?�

�Thy Wish Is My Command. Try it.�

What to wish. I gaze out over my legs, stretched out, feet to the sky. I honor them, staunch and loyal supporters in life; they evoke a memory and encourage me, �Hey! Give it a try. What the heck!�

�OK,� I relent, �only because you ask. Here it is: I wish my left leg were normal, same as my right. No trace of polio.�

Ok. I did it. I made a wish. So what's next, Voice?

The Powerful Softly-Persistent Voice delivers! I watch transfixed as my left leg begins to grow and fill out until it exactly matches the right. Then the pelvic bone and the spine decompress and realign. This is a momentous experience! Who would believe it? What an amazing sight! I'm in the Maker's Hands! I Am In This State By Thy Will Only. No other possibility! This is beyond belief!

At some point, my friends--the thoughts--surface. I am the same as before; I'm still ME. However, the persona I am familiar with and its life purpose no longer fit the realigned body. The �Deliverer' took the wind out of my sail; puffed anew. With one heretofore, unimaginable power puff, the Gentle Voice rocked my socks off. I could still try to follow the same patterns. But the life force will not be attentive. It does its own thing--seeks out what is immediate and direct for its purposes alone.

In this new �normal' body, I don't need a persona that compensates for the many facets of left-right imbalance. Hey, ya' know what? This �new' body is stunningly simple. It has no needs and it's light! But I have to be fair. I like the old body too. I don't mind the familiar old persona; it entertains me. And I can admire the �old' body trudging and sauntering along mending fences. What else to do? Still, something new would arise.

What would it be like to stay with the newly aligned body, I wonder? I'm still ME; that doesn't change. The difference is that I am in a world of thoughts that are directly manifested in the physical world. This is not my ordinary reality. Yes, my thoughts manifest, but not in a grandiose way. It's more like �I think I'll get up now and I get up.� From this experience, it is clear to me directly that thoughts have the power to manifest in the physical in spectacular ways (through me or anyone) in concert with the �Voice That Delivers,� the Powerful Softly-Persistent Voice. Maybe I could say the Higher Power or recite a thousand and one names.

What about choice? This present experience is not drug induced. I am not consciously choosing to have it; nor do I remember any conscious forethought of it. It is just happening--a spontaneous call and response happening. Now that I am in it, am I making choices? Yes, I choose to make a wish, to follow the Gentle Voice and �try it� after a short consultation with the body-mind. (You are probably thinking, you also choose to take an air bath and ride with the dragon fly, you nut case!)

What about surrender--an ultimate rendering or giving? The entire experience originates from surrender or it wouldn't be happening. There is also surrender that follows each of the conscious choices--to accept an invitation to bathe, to accept a lift (from a trusted friend), and to follow the gentle trusted Voice.

I'm not kidding myself into thinking that today I escape the magnetic Cycle Brigade (the rounds of birth and death) and remain forever in a treasured state. I say, �I'm ready to go and I'm ready to stay. It's all the same to me.� Therefore, which one is �going' and which is one is �staying' when they are both the same? When every moment carries the mark (remembrance) of the treasured state, when am I not in it?