Dream two: Kathy Ramey
Kathy Ramey left the new community I find myself in. I barely recognized the name. Didn’t really. But when shown a picture of her I immediately knew why everyone was so upset by her leaving. I recognized her, in the dream, although I’ve never known her in my waking life, and am sure the name is a total figment of my imagination.
She had been a spark. An inspiration that moved the others to do what they would have done on their own if only they’d thought better of themselves. She’d been an organizer of this young, vibrant community. She made them feel better of themselves. But now she’s gone.
She had charisma, and she will be sorely missed.
Now the future of the community would (will?) be tested by whether she’d been there long enough to have succeeded in conveying the faith those living here need to have in themselves. Now it was up to them to trust in themselves, and know that that trust was well placed–to believe in their better selves.
Then I woke up.
Dream three: Time Travel
I awoke this morning to another odd dream. My group of closest friends from college were inexplicably together at a gathering which included the Beatles as they prepared to take a journey on a ship whose name I don’t remember. It was a time-travel scenario in which I knew we, the College friends, were traveling back in time. I recalled that, on this trip, one of the Beatles was killed. That, of course, doesn’t correspond to any reality that I remember now that I’m awake, but bear with me here, for the significance of the dream only tangentially rests with that misremembered “fact.”
I tried desperately to convince them, the Beatles, they ought to abort the trip. Amazingly difficult, but explicable at least partly because I hadn’t had the prescience to withhold the fact that I knew what I did because of my being a time traveler.
I tried to recall news stories that would convince them of how I’d seen things from their future too incredible to have invented. For example, John being shot–along with advice to him to avoid living in NYC at all cost, of course; I tried personal stories, like my second wife leaving me because of my infidelities and my regret over that and consequent reversal of my behavior–something my friends, who knew me well enough to appreciate how vast a change that would represent, could understand, but that failed to mean much to the Beatles. I came up with many such examples, too personal to have any convincing aspects for strangers such as they, especially ones with such rich experiences themselves. I was trying desperately to be convincing, and failing miserably. Mostly coming across as just a nutcase.
Then I awoke and made some notes to try to focus my thoughts for a blog entry.
Most notably, the dream seems to relate to the problem I have today. How do I convince people of the totally inconceivable truth I have? Especially when my logical self suspects “the truth I have” might not be totally accurate. When the means by which I obtained it rationally collides head-on with my life’s training? I find myself suffering the same fate that besat the Apostle Thomas. He is remembered more as a testament to the negative effects of doubt than starting anything–especially anything so momentous as a movement to adopt “go to the stars” as our Destiny.
The Beatles, as we well know, never had the accident I “remembered.” So my attempts to warn them of such an event were misplaced, at least. But their future certainly didn’t go well, as a whole. Not for their audience. How I wish their genius had continued on uninterrupted.
How I wish I could change so many things from the way they actually went. Mostly personal things, of course. Things I can, apparently, no longer change. Mistakes of the past.
But, what I want now, more than anything, is to have some effect on changing how things are going. For my actual time travel has been, for one very brief moment, in the opposite direction. And where we are going is disastrous beyond the conceivable.
How does one make real to others that which is inconceivable in the first place? And, without making it real, how does one motivate a change so profound as humanity must make to avert the future I’ve seen? How can a “doubting Thomas” ever wax convincing?
Dreams are magic. Don’t ignore yours. Keep pad and pencil at hand as you sleep and write down what you remember as soon as you awake. Avoid turning on a light. Then, before your second cup of coffee, write something coherent about the dream.