So, what is in it, in that flight? Our Souls are so light, that whatever medium is on the other side, and I will, for simplicity, call it aether, the flight is controlled by our mental will. It has nothing in it of aerodynamic nature. So in the aether wings become a rudiment of aerodynamic realm, they might look like a fancy bodily compliment, but I suspect that they will be of as much use as an umbrella to a fish. Yet We miss Wings here, in lacrimarum valle, where we are destined to crawl, confined to the ground by gravity.
Gravity, gravitas, heft -- oh those fetters which pull us down, deprave us from such a wonderful feeling of levity, lightness and flight. That’s what we miss, I think, the lightness of an aethereal flight. And we miss that because such lightness is our normal state and such flight is our normal way to move. Here, on this planet, we are just transient beings, confined for life, but sooner or later the sentence will end. So, perhaps, we should just take it easy. As St. Augustine said “angels can flight because they take themselves lightly”.
In the meantime, I guess, we’ll keep jumping.
1.Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., If This Isn't Nice, What Is? Advice for the Young.
2. Eben Alexander, Proofof Heaven, Simon and Schuster, 2012.