These dreams...
Jun. 4th, 2009 11:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joegodaI was driving into town, looking for a place to stay. The town wasn't Tulsa... it was some sleeply little burg, with tree-lined streets desperately crying out for repair and the shops that settled deeply on either side of those sad streets looked abandoned and boarded up. Maybe it was just a Sunday in any small town in Oklahoma.
Most of the dream has faded, but this is the gist of it. I was enrolled into a theater class, simply for the reason that if I didn't attend, I would be deported to England. Now, I was the same age I am now, 52, and I really didn't want to be enrolled into a theater class. In fact, I didn't enroll in it, I was enrolled... drafted you might say.
I went to a few of the classes, which were held in a run down, no longer used auto repair garage, with the florescent lights hanging low from the roof beams and the dirty gray concrete floor. There was a tool box, one of those tall red jobs on wheels standing near the middle of the floor and the walls were uncovered wood, so the studs, stood out like the ribs on a starving child.
There were about 10 or so youngsters there and the instructor wasn't really doing much teaching. I didn't memorize the faces of any of the kids there, and I was becoming increasingly bored and bothered. Bothered because all I wanted to do was go home... where ever home was. I had the impression, memories in my dream-head, that home was a white house with a screened in front porch and a swinging screen door that squeaked when it shut closed. I was bored because there wasn't much going on, just mental finger-painting and such. I think the teacher had the folks collecting leaves for some project involving glue. I was not interested, so I snuck out the door and headed home.
I walked down the deserted streets, and was met by Kim, known on LJ asokgirlnextdoor. She was despondent and worried that my skipping out on class would get me deported.
I don't remember if I said anything to her, but I took her concern to mind and thought to myself, "Hmmm. Deported to England. Would that be a BAD thing?" Not wanting to hang around and not wanting to get caught skipping school, I decided to fly.
Now, I hadn't flown in a dream for a while, so I was concerned (in the dream) whether I still could. So I jumped into the air and caught a current and sure enough, I was still able to, although it was very hard work. It was like swimming in corn syrup, tough and strenuous. I pumped my arms to make headway and kicked my feet, but I didn't seem to make any distance or speed. I barely cleared the tree-tops and almost didn't cross over some power lines. It was not a fun thing, and I sadly remembered how easy it had been in the past.
I gave up trying to fly and let my self sink down until I was hovering just a few inches above the ground, belly down, like a hovercraft, or a hoverchet.
At which point I woke up and thought, "What the hell was that about?" So, I went back to sleep and had the same dream sequence three more times. The dream's important, or rather the message of the dream is. I just need to figure it out.
Most of the dream has faded, but this is the gist of it. I was enrolled into a theater class, simply for the reason that if I didn't attend, I would be deported to England. Now, I was the same age I am now, 52, and I really didn't want to be enrolled into a theater class. In fact, I didn't enroll in it, I was enrolled... drafted you might say.
I went to a few of the classes, which were held in a run down, no longer used auto repair garage, with the florescent lights hanging low from the roof beams and the dirty gray concrete floor. There was a tool box, one of those tall red jobs on wheels standing near the middle of the floor and the walls were uncovered wood, so the studs, stood out like the ribs on a starving child.
There were about 10 or so youngsters there and the instructor wasn't really doing much teaching. I didn't memorize the faces of any of the kids there, and I was becoming increasingly bored and bothered. Bothered because all I wanted to do was go home... where ever home was. I had the impression, memories in my dream-head, that home was a white house with a screened in front porch and a swinging screen door that squeaked when it shut closed. I was bored because there wasn't much going on, just mental finger-painting and such. I think the teacher had the folks collecting leaves for some project involving glue. I was not interested, so I snuck out the door and headed home.
I walked down the deserted streets, and was met by Kim, known on LJ as
okgirlnextdoor. She was despondent and worried that my skipping out on class would get me deported.I don't remember if I said anything to her, but I took her concern to mind and thought to myself, "Hmmm. Deported to England. Would that be a BAD thing?" Not wanting to hang around and not wanting to get caught skipping school, I decided to fly.
Now, I hadn't flown in a dream for a while, so I was concerned (in the dream) whether I still could. So I jumped into the air and caught a current and sure enough, I was still able to, although it was very hard work. It was like swimming in corn syrup, tough and strenuous. I pumped my arms to make headway and kicked my feet, but I didn't seem to make any distance or speed. I barely cleared the tree-tops and almost didn't cross over some power lines. It was not a fun thing, and I sadly remembered how easy it had been in the past.
I gave up trying to fly and let my self sink down until I was hovering just a few inches above the ground, belly down, like a hovercraft, or a hoverchet.
At which point I woke up and thought, "What the hell was that about?" So, I went back to sleep and had the same dream sequence three more times. The dream's important, or rather the message of the dream is. I just need to figure it out.
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(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-04 05:40 pm (UTC)I guess we took lessons from different instructors...
bw
Sounds like you were in the barn at WhiteHart for Academy classes...
Sneaking out on Academy Class???
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-05 03:08 am (UTC)For me, flying is like running on the air. It's like in Remo Williams, the Destroyer, where Chuin explains that to walk on water, "you must run very, very fast", or like where the Red Queen says "To get anywhere at all, you must run twice as fast as you can." Flying in dreams was just kinda second nature to me, and oddly, when it had been a long time between dreams where I flew, the flying was harder to start up... sort of like riding a bike after not having done it for a very long time. A bit wobbly at first, a bit of a slow start up, but it comes back pretty quick.
Once I'm up, I can stay up for a very long time, surfing on the thermals and running up clouds. There's no limit to how high or how far I can go. Landing is just like running off the back of a moving truck, which I have done. I just have to match your speed to the speed of the ground.
I think the dream has to do with me not living up to the expectations other folks have of me, and my fear that I'll be 'deported' or excluded from their group or encounters with them. I think the dream was to tell me that my attitude "What's wrong with being deported?" may be the right attitude for me, as long as I'm willing to walk down those desolate streets by myself.
There's a barn at WhiteHart? Hmmm. Cool!