Lucid Lucy

There was a February morning when Lucy went out among the Philistines feeling very clear and lucid. She was Lucid Lucy. If you asked her about it, she would say that she had no idea why she was so clear headed that day. It certainly was not about drugs. There was no significant change to her routine. She woke up and had her coffee and and English muffin for breakfast, dressed as always casually. When she left the house she had her laptop in the usual messenger bag, and she had no place in particular where she was planning to go to. It was just a day off, and early morning walk, first to the train station and then wherever fancy took her. 

By the time she reached Davis Square, Lucy was humming with a new and unrecognized energy. Her hands seemed to be vibrating with it. In her head, there was a melody playing at a rapid speed – something too complicated and too quick to define and understand. Although it was an odd and unasked for musical backdrop, it was not annoying like an ear worm. It was somehow pleasing and when she let it move through her it converted the energy she was feeling to something with a strange warmth and charm.

Sitting in the train station waiting for the Red Line train to arrive, she felt the energy first grow to fill her entire being, then shift to become the clarity we already mentioned.  

She found herself fascinated, watching people move in a new and revelatory way. The subway platform had become a stage, and the activities of the people going off on what appeared to be very serious and vital missions was some kind of theater, a fiction which only she could see as a fiction.

Finally a train arrived. She sat on the bench as most of the passengers rushed in, driven by their individual purposes, then she slowly sauntered onto the nearest car herself. There was plenty of space – there were only a few riders in the car with her – one young man who was listening to music on his headphones. An older woman with a romance novel was in the seat nearest the front door. 

Lucy took a seat about midway in the car, and just watched everything, wide eyed and excited.

After several stops, she got off at the Harvard Square station. On the way she’d decided that a cup of tea was in order, and she knew of a tea shop on the square where she could have a nice cup and then find an outdoor bench to sit on. If she was lucky, that fellow named David would be out playing his signature blues songs. 

When she found David, he was playing near the stone chess tables, and she was happy to find a seat there. She took out her laptop and settled in to write for awhile.  

She nearly left, realizing that there would be no internet this far from any of the wifi cafes, but when she checked for available connections in her control panel, it turned out that there was a single unsecured connection available. Without even thinking, she allowed her laptop to connect and she began browsing and reading today’s news.  

She found herself bouncing around making various tiny essays into research – first on some science item she found on a friend’s Facebook page. That lead her to a story about a musician who wrote songs based on random sounds he recorded and looped with an app on his iPad. That lead to a story about global warming, which lead to one about Gnostic Scripture – something in fact about the Gospel of Judas. After reading that, she closed the laptop, stashed it into her bag, dropped a five dollar tip in David’s basket (he then happily thanked her) and started strolling around Harvard Square with the phrase “Gnostic, gnostic, gnostic gnosis” running through her head endlessly. Somehow it seemed to Lucy that this phrase, which was really more of a chant after all,was somehow causing her to “tap in” to the voice of God which, truth be told, was actually the case. 

The point of clarity she had achieved that day had, in fact, attracted the attention of a God. Not the God, the big all powerful one that the Judeo-Christian faiths believed in, but a lesser God, one who had been all but forgotten by most humans, although there were small pockets of people around the globe who knew and revered him, but did not pray to him – he was a God that hated prayer! 

He found his way to Lucy and appeared to her, first as a vague bluish cloud, then solidified into something of a recognizable human form. He solidified directly in her path and she had to stop very short in order not to collide with him and she nearly cursed him out for his carelessness, but the she looked into his ancient face and realized his true nature and was stunned.

“You are Pan,” she said matter of factly.

“I am,” he replied. 

She walked quickly over to a stone seat and sat down, in shock. 

Pan sat beside her and took her hand. 

She found that the vibration that had started earlier today was still active and when Pan touched her, it harmonized with a vibration emanating from him. The combination of the two sounds was as sudden as an orgasm but on a much higher order than any physical orgasm she had experienced. With the orgasm came a flood of images and thoughts – the phrase she had been repeating to herself suddenly made sense. This was, in fact, a Gnosis. 

Pan looked surprised. He had not expected this either, and finding his thoughts and his vibration witnessed, he popped back into the blue vapor form and allowed a breeze to dissipate him.

Lucy was so puzzled and fascinated by what was happening that she didn’t notice his departure. Anyway, the thoughts and ideas that had transferred were filling her mind, and the residue of Pan’s vibrations continued to dovetail and harmonize with her own. Deep in her cellular structure, the vibrations were working to transform her. Eventually the vibrations themselves changed into something more resembling sound and Lucy found that with a slight effort of will, she could guide the sound to different parts of her body, where it engaged in further transformations, gilding her flesh and her organs, transforming the blood in her veins into a potent liquor which had ideas and images of its own to impart. 

Then it was if a veil lifted and suddenly everything around her became translucent and she saw that where there had been matter, there was now a latticework not unlike a wireframe in Illustrator, except that this wireframe pulsed and flashed with a life that was terrifying and invigorating. 

Even her own body seemed to be composed of luminous fibers – she thought that if anyone saw her, she would look like a brilliant hairy cocoon, shot through with light from a mysterious spectrum. 

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