February 12, 1992.

I am on the shore of a huge lake. There is a canoe, an old style
Viking craft. There are men there with the boats. I know I
can't swim. But my sister Edith tells me I have no choice. I
have to cross the lake alone, and I will succed. I get in the
boat, scared, but suddenly, I have confidence in myself. There
are enormous waves which completely engulf the craft. I am
submerged by the waves but I no longer am frightened. I don't
see the shore anywhere near in sight. But I keep paddling and
rising above these waters.

I am now on a wooded island. It is a camping ground. I arrive
early, (in my canoe somehow) and there are only a few children
here and there on the island. The camping area is on one side,
the forest on my right. I head directly for the woods and in my
head, know I am going off for some kind of meditation, end of
initiation following my canoe ride.


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