Discussion on Dreams --- Life is just a hop, skip, and a jump.

I am fascinated with the writing of Mike Firesmith.  He is intelligent, articulate, and down to earth, an interesting combination.  He has recently be writing about dreams.  Another Gather friend, Mariana T., also published an article asking if we ever dream of Gather.  So I was not surprised when I awoke from a dream early this morning, thinking crystal clear, and was determined to remember this dream so I could write about it.  I normally forget my dreams as soon as I fall back to sleep.  I am almost never upset by dreams.  If I remember them at all, I consider them free entertainment.  And I am seldom in my dreams.  My primary role is that of observer.  Since the main character in this dream is female, she will be carrying the narrative, speaking in the first person.  This dream was a little bit unusual; it had a definite Twilight Zone aura about it.  Let’s see if I do it justice.

I open my eyes to an oppressive semi-darkness.  There is minimal light in the room.  Since the cones in the human eye need light to function, everything seems monochromatic to me.  Blurry, impressionistic shapes, in varying shades of gray, fill my slit of vision. 

Everything hurts.  I hurt.  I’m lying in my bed again.  How long has it been since I’ve been out of this bed.  The linen is stiff from my body sweat, and yet I feel so cold sometimes.  Other times I’m burning up, thrashing about and wadding up the sheets.  Right now I’m on my side.  Curled in a fetal position.  Arms clutching my torso.  No pillow.  My neck hurts.  If I close my eyes, the light goes away, but the pain remains.  And I notice that my ears are ringing, like when I’ve taken too many meds.

I hear a click that I recognize as the door.  Someone enters the room, walking quietly but briskly.  A hand touches my shoulder.  “How are you feeling today?”

I open my eyes a bit more, another light is turned on, and I squint them shut. 

“It won’t be long now.  You’re coming to the end.”  The woman’s voice is quite pleasant. 

As my eyes adjust to the additional light, I am able to register color.  The double doors to my huge walk-in closet are standing wide open.  I can see all my belongs arranged neatly, waiting for my attention.  That image is unbelievably comforting. 

“Oh yes, all your things are still here.”  She must have seen my eyes scanning the closet area.  You know they won’t be removed till its over.”  She walks about the room, doing odd chores.  “I have my eye on quite a few of your things.  They’re all very beautiful.  Expensive and well maintained.”  I can hear a satisfied smile enter her voice.  “Yes, this appointment should pay off nicely.”

Again the horrible pain washes over me.  It is accompanied by a cold, strangling panic.  Oh God, I remember.  Not my clothes.  Don’t touch my things.  I always loved to walk into my closet.  Deep pile carpet caressing my bare toes.  I have to walk to the center to pull the light cord.  Then I am surrounded by beauty.  Clothes arranged by season, divided into dresses, skirts, tops, pants, etc.  Over there, racks of shoes.  On the other side, special shelves and drawers to hold purses and jewelry. 

Oh I love ….   

How can a closet be my favorite room?  God, they’re all right.  I am vain.

“I’ll be back to start the process in just a little while.  Now you relax.  Its always better when they’re relaxed.”  And she leaves as quietly and as briskly as she entered.

The panic is all-consuming. I can blink and move my eyes.  But I can’t more anything.  So this is what it’s like to be powerless.

A rapid shuffle and someone knocks into my bed.  “Are you awake?” a man frantically asks.  “Its me, Bernie.”  He shakes my shoulder.  The same spot the woman had touched earlier.  “There’s no time left.  We have to do it now.”  Heavier shaking.  “Come on!  I know you don’t think you can do this but you can.”  Bernie roles me over so I am facing him.  I know him.  His wrinkled face and balding head are barely tall enough to reach my line of vision.  I wonder what I look like.  “You’ve got to concentrate.  We’ve got to do this now, before they come back.”

Amazingly, I know what Bernie is talking about.  But it’s impossible.  I can’t do it. 

“Yes you can!” he reads my mind.  “Do it.  In your mind.  Pull yourself together.  Pull yourself into a ball.  Like we practiced.  You have to remove yourself.  We’re leaving now.  Don’t be afraid.  I’m going with you.  We’ll be together.” 

My mouth and throat are too dry.  I can’t speak.  I want to yell at him, ‘Go now, save yourself.  I can’t do it.  Leave me.’  I just stare at him with tear-filled eyes.

“There’s not time for that.  You can feel all that later.”  As usual, Bernie won’t take ‘No’ for an answer, and he’s all business right now. 

“All my clothes.”  I can’t believe those are the words I manage to squeeze out.  Bernie is equally disgusted.  “If you don’t concentrate I can’t help you.” he shouts in a horse whisper.  “Pull yourself into a ball.  Lift the ball,”   Through habit, I am performing the mental exercise and following his verbal prompting just as we had practiced. 

“And now,” deep breath, “THROW the ball as hard as you can …”

I feel a wrenching snap, like finally flicking off a dried scab from a healing sore.  There is a small pain.  And then darkness.

“Well there you are.”  I slowly open my eyes to that pleasant voice.  Light.  So much bright light.  And green.  Everything a bright green.  And above that a soft, deep blue.  I squint my eyes shut and open them again.  Bright green.  ‘We must be up north.’ I think illogically.

“It took me a little while to find you.”  The voice is so big.  Not unpleasant.  But it is all around me.  And then I am being lifted.  Lifted a long way up.  “You’re okay now.  I’ve got you.” 

I keep blinking my eyes.  There is a huge wall in front of me.  I am pushing away from it but I am surrounded by warmth and held fast.  “You can open your eyes now.  And don’t be afraid.  It’s me, Bernie.  You remember that I’m going to look different.” 

I have to look way up.  I have to turn my head slightly sideways to see clearly.  There is the huge head of a young, average looking guy.  I flop my back down and see a sea of grass, and some rabbits.  Then I look back up at this new Bernie.  I’m pushing at the wall … his chest.  Only now do I notice that my arms are covered in fur – and there are PAWS where my hands should be!

“Okay, I know, I know.”  Bernie tightens his hold as I squirm frantically.  “Don’t panic!”  Bernie slowly rises from his squatting position.  “You landed on top of one of these rabbits.”  He turns around and looks about.  “We’re not in a forest.  It looks like a park.  A nice one.”  He starts walking aimlessly.  “I landed in this guy.  Seems like a nice enough bloke.  ‘Ppreciate the use of his body.”

I’m still freaking but can’t resist the eticement to curl up safely in this new Bernie’s arms.  “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there soon enough.”  More walking.  “In fact, with way is better.  You can look around, choose someone you really like.  Look at that one over there, she’s quite a dish …”

I close my eyes and submerge into welcome darkness.