Monday, March 26, 2012
I dreamed I was walking down several tiers of stairs that remind me of the green, man-made mesas at Cahokia, only the mount I'm descending is made of a gritty white rock, like colorless sandstone, and I don't think about what's underneath or how it got there. I'm overwhelmed with the people I'm passing on my way, and try to focus on where I'm going, which is a dream landscape with a pond that is every familiar pond. I am aware in the dream that I'm going to be treated to a repeat visit to this pond. I love to see it, dream whatever dream I have that includes it. Almost at the bottom, an arm reaches out and a hand grabs my wrist just long enough to stop me and make me look, just hard enough to bring me into the moment. It is someone I haven't thought of in a long time. At least, it's someone I haven't seen in my mind's eye for many years the way I see him now, which is as he used to be before we grew to resent and distrust-- perhaps even loathe-- one another. He seems innocent to me in this moment, and I feel myself flood with warmth. A mothering impulse stirs. He's just about to tell me what he's thinking. I'm just about to find out whether he's going to explain something, berate me, or ask me to stay in this group of people with him, go through the errand to the top all over again. I am on the cusp of hearing perhaps that he is going to say he wants to come with me to the familiar pond-- when the thought of the familiar pond breaks the spell and I find myself walking backwards down the stairs, making my excuse to the confusion of his expression, and then turning around to finish my descent. At the bottom, I run into a field of grass that somehow isn't itchy around my bare legs, and is alive with insects that don't threaten me at all. The tree line opens up in the distance to reveal a wide path and I am swiftly making my way there. I woke up knowing that I got to the pond and had a good dream, where I met interesting people and creatures and pulled amazing things out of the water. I want to remember that part, but all I can remember a few hours after waking is the descent and being stopped for just a second on my way.
DREAMER: Andrea Berger