On Dreaming (#15)

Three loads of laundry need folding, but I am putting them off in order to blog. The image below is a section of my garden. Those leafy plants are Brussels sprouts. Yes, the space is overcrowded. However, I am experimenting. Just behind them, barely visible, are tendrils from pole bean plants. For two weeks I have been putting off installing a support system--I could not settle on a design. What you see is a dirty compromise. It is ugly, but it will work. The idea came to me Saturday, after a nap. Ran out under the hot afternoon sun, and put them together. This part of my garden is a metaphor for parts of my life. 

Only time will tell if any of these efforts bear fruit.

I have not shared any dreams since May 1st. That long post contained five vivid ones. Some were humorous, while others were dark and grotesque. However, explaining them is beyond my current skills. For now, I will continue simply to transcribe them by way of this blog. 

For tonight, I will keep things short. Three dreams in no particular order. All without explanations. Sorry.

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My wife and I arrived at our college campus, but we were middle aged. We parked the car near a building which at the moment I thought was my assigned dormitory. Since it was still light out, we headed towards the student hall. People were gathered about, talking. Two of my former students were hanging around. I only spoke briefly with them, because I noticed people began dispersing from the building. My two students and wife followed the crowd leaving me to walk outside alone. Although little time had passed, it was now dusk. I decided to head towards my dorm room.

On the way, I ran into another former student. We exchanged greetings. I noticed an unlit, gravel path that cut through a wooded area. A part of me considered it a good option, a short cut to my destination; another part warned against it. In my hesitation, my former student had left, finding his own way across campus. Abandoned, I resolved to take the short cut.

Along the way, I had doubts about my choice. However, each time I convinced myself I had gone this far, so it was not worth turning back. Eventually the walkway dropped me off at one end of a parking lot. On the other side was a large, old building. It was a dormitory, and people were heading inside. But it was not the same one from earlier in the dream. I took out my papers and read through them. Apparently, the building in front of me was the correct one.

Reluctantly, I joined the crowd, and entered the building. The lobby was dimly lit, and dilapidated. And very narrow and tight. The number of people did not help. Nor did the feeling that I was in the wrong place. Unfortunately, the crowd began pushing me towards the elevators. As we approached them, I realized I did not know my floor. A fear grew inside me. I did not want to find myself on an elevator without my this bit of information. I was afraid I would be humiliated. Despite having little room around me, I pulled out my dorm key, and looked for a number. Nothing. I grew more anxious.  The elevator doors began to open. The crowd pushed me closer. Then I pulled out my papers, and scanned them. But this time there was too much information. People began filing into the elevators. Finally, I found a number. Desperate, I decided it corresponded to my floor.

That is when I spied a stairwell. Still fearing humiliation, I pulled away from the crowd, and headed up the stairs. At least I would be alone, and able to figure out where I should go. Yet, after a few steps, I discovered another person next to me. Again, not wanting to look ignorant, I felt the need to keep walking forward and upward. 

As I climbed the stairs, a thought occurred to me. Did I have a roommate? If so, how would I explain that I snore loudly? Anxiety set in and worsened with each step. Yet, I kept moving, until I reached what I thought was the correct floor. As I stepped onto it, I noticed the space was even more confining than the lobby and stairwell. It was a long, but narrow hallway, lined with doors. The first door led to a very small bathroom. Just a toilet. And it looked dirty. I turned away. The next door led to a bedroom, almost as small as the bathroom. I left it alone, and continued on down the hall.

However, with each step, the space around me tightened, the lighting dimmed, and my mind began doubting whether I should even be there. Moving forward became difficult. Yet, I refused to stop, or turn away. Momentum kept me going, until everything faded to black, and I found myself awake in my bed.   

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My mother and I were in a car. I was driving. We arrived at a parking lot of old, worn asphalt, with weeds growing from the long, deep cracks. It sat beside several soccer fields. Since it was not crowded, I found an open spot and parked. However, a doubt entered my mind: I did not park between the lines. Deciding I could do better, I pulled the car out. That is when I started losing control of the car. The breaks did not work properly, especially when I was in reverse. People and cars began arriving in large numbers. The lot became crowded, and I grew paranoid. I circled around desperate to find a spot. But the few open spaces looked tighter. Children showed up, and I was worried about hitting them. Especially about what their parents would say to me. Finally, I decided to leave. The exit led through a narrow corridor. I had doubts that I could fit. Somehow I managed to get through. On the other side I found a cop, and thought if I explained things to him, why I did the things that I did, everything would be fine. 

He did not seem to care, about any of it, the situation or my explanation. Instead, he just waved me through. 

Then I woke up.

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It began in a courtyard beside a large stone building. It reminded me of a psychiatric hospital. The sky was clear and bright, and the grounds green and lush. My two brothers and I were standing about. Although I saw no walls, gates, or guards, I had the feeling that we were being detained. My brothers felt it, too. Soon we decided that we should leave.

As we started to walk out of the courtyard, away from the building, I realized we would need our passports. We made a plan. They would continue walking, and I would retrieve the passports. Afterwards, I would catch up with them. We split up.

Upon entering the building, I felt myself creeping about, trying to avoid being noticed. Except, the only person I found was a close friend. They asked me what I was doing, and I told them the truth. Although I do not remember exactly what I had said, they did not seem upset. In fact, with this encounter, I felt confident that we would meet again. They seemed to feel the same way. So we departed, and I eventually acquired the passports.

Finally, I found myself beyond the building and the grounds. However, I had a new problem. In front of me was a crossroads, and I had no idea which direction my brothers turned: left, right, or straight. The left path was clear to me. It was a bright, tree-lined avenue. The moment I saw it, I knew my brothers had gone in that direction. It was just a strong feeling. 

Yet... a small, quiet voice in my mind spoke up. It told me to go straight. And I did. For some reason I avoided my initial gut reaction, and settled for a second opinion.

This path led to another large building. It was clearly a hospital, and I was drawn to it. Upon entering it, I found myself wandering about. The more I traveled through it, the more twisted and narrow the hallways became. Also, with each turn, the light grew dimmer. Finally, I felt something was wrong, that I did not belong there. With that thought, I stepped into a large lobby filled with windows that let in a bright light. There were people about, minding their own business. I strolled through the revolving doors, and found myself on the outside.

The world was bright and green again. Another tree-lined avenue stretched before me, leading away from the hospital. I wanted to take it. Yet, another voice cautioned me, arguing that my brothers headed off in a different direction. Doubt consumed me. I struggled for some time, until I made up my mind. I would return to the crossroads, and take the original path.

Confident, I turned, and began walking back. At some point, I found myself talking on the phone with my friend from the beginning of the dream. Unfortunately, I cannot remember if I called them, or they called me. A part of me thinks the distinction is important; a part of me thinks I am over analyzing it. In any case, although they did not seem to be expressing concern, I felt the need to reassure my friend that I would return to them.

And in the dream, I knew it was the truth.

The dream ended there, and I woke up.