The Big Hit

I had two kinds of dreams.  The first one, I had no means of control in which my night of deep sleep gave me vivid images that placed me in a world of fantasy, apart from the world of substance.
The other kind of dream came to me at the ball park as I lifted the bat upon my shoulder.  I was a lad of only twelve with major league aspirations.  As I turned my ear toward heaven, I heard voices saying to me, “Learn the mechanics of hitting and let them become natural to you.  Work on them and build up your body and mind so you can perform this naturalness to the best of your ability.”  That was twelve years ago.
Today when it was the seventh game of the World Series, it was time for me to come to bat in the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, two outs and our team trailing 3 to 0.  After studying the pitcher for eight innings, I knew what was coming.  I looked at two strikes, but still waited for my pitch.  I knew I could hit it, and so here it came, right in my wheelhouse.  The ball cleared the center field fence and landed half way up the bleachers.  We won the World Series.  My dream awarded me master of my aspirations.  The mechanics of hitting became natural to me, and I worked diligently to perfect them through the years.
My first kind of dream took me to a place higher than the visible world where I found the road to the realm of the Gods after my soul’s liberation from reality’s imprisonment.
My second kind of dream made me a slave to the noble visions of reality where it became as satisfying to me as the land of fantasy had become.
My message to the young, “Listen to the voices of authority, and work hard on what they say to you.”

From my book entitled, "A Sage's Diary."

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