I was in a city, but still in the midst of a number of trees. I was holding onto something (not much more than a string) which I knew could lift me up into the air. Before I could let go I was lifted up and I flew through the air. My hands were raised over my head as if I were holding a balloon. I couldn't let go because it was already a long distance to the ground.

The sensation of flying was familiar to me since I had often done it in the past. However when I went so high, I tended to become frightened. But it suddenly became clear to me that flying was actually a metaphor for reaching different levels of consciousness. I thought if I would go up a little farther, I would reach a certain point where I would be in a rather sublime state of consciousness and start having types of experiences which I had never had before.

However I didn't feel prepared yet for that and I began to descend. I reached the ground, found a group of people and spoke with them. Steve Weinstein walked up wearing a white shirt buttoned at the top. I was wearing a blue, stripped shirt also buttoned at the top. Weinstein reached for my top button as if to unbutton it, but I brushed his hand away because I didn't want it unbuttoned.

He spoke to me in French. In a way I thought he was trying to impress the people around us that we could speak French. But at the same time I felt it was a genuine attempt on his part to speak French with me. That pleased me because I enjoyed speaking French.

Weinstein's voice sounded very different from normal. Apparently, he had been learning from somebody and his voice had been changed. His voice also reminded me of someone else but I couldn't place who. The tonal quality of the way he spoke French and the way I spoke it were radically different. Both our pronunciations were pleasant in their own way. His was pleasant in a somewhat refined way, but mine was pleasant in the naturalness of it.

Weinstein said, "Combien couterait un bounge pour aller a Londres cette nuit?"

I replied, "Es que tu veux aller a Londres cette nuit?"

He said, "Oui, combien couterait une bounge?."

I answered, "Je ne comprends pas cette mot 'bounge'."

He replied that the word "bounge" meant "air" in English. But I told him the French word for "air" was "l'air." But then he said that "bounge" meant "fare." I finally realized he had been asking me how much it would cost for a ticket to London tonight. I said, "Coutera deux cents dolars."

He then said he was leaving and he walked away. I figured he was headed for Ellis Island and that his plane (probably People's Express) would be leaving from there. I thought the flight would probably cost about $170. I thought perhaps I might follow him to Ellis Island. It seemed in a way that Weinstein was trying to show me how easy it was to simply fly to London for a few days on business and then return to New York. It was no longer a major event to travel to Europe.

I had been developing the ability to project myself to places without actually having to travel there. I began projecting myself to where I thought Weinstein had gone and I reached a place where I saw him racing down some circular stairs which went down for many flights. Finally, he jumped on the banister of the stairs and began sliding down. For myself, I traveled head first down the circular space in the middle of the stairs until I reached the bottom where I stopped and began looking at Weinstein from an upside down angle. He said, "Oh no."

I didn't think he wanted me to go to London with him and I quickly explained that I had no intention of going with him to London.

From where we were we could see Ellis Island in the distance. Weinstein was just getting ready to cross the water to reach Ellis Island. I could see the Statue of Liberty on the island and New York City in the background. It had been dark out and was just beginning to dawn. The reflection of the dawning light on the buildings of New York and the Statue of Liberty standing prominently in the foreground was a splendid, uplifting sight.

All the while I was continuing to think in French. I realized how the language was flowing much more freely in my mind than before and that I needed to continue its practice.