Learning to move while out of body can be a very comical process — in my early childhood
experiences with real-time projection, I always started by trying to navigate my way through the
house to get outside. I would float and slide and blunder through walls and doors and usually end up
getting stuck in the roof. Then, when I finally managed to leave the house, I'd skim along the road
trying to get up enough speed so I could take off like an airplane or a bird. I would get airborne for
a while by flapping my arms or using a swimming action (which really does help with flying), but
could never seem to clear the surrounding trees and rooftops.
Falling was interesting, as it seemed to happen in slow motion. I would feel a kind of slow and
heavy impact when I hit the ground. I remember feeling something that could be likened to out-of-
body concussion, and something like a vague feeling of remembered pain, but falling never hurt me
or sent me back to my body, and I never seemed to penetrate the ground on impact. I would skim
down the road taking a series of giant leaps, getting airborne for a while and flapping my arms like
crazy, trying to will myself higher and faster. I wanted to fly like Superman, but could never quite
break free of the strangely slow gravity I felt that kept pulling me back to earth every time I got
airborne. Because of this, I often floated unintentionally into strange houses, blundering about like a
drunk in zero gravity. I seemed to be continually apologizing to an endless number of perplexed
strangers in passing, as I floated in and out of their houses.
