Woo! Epic dream incoming -- may I remember at least most of the important details!
The beginning, the outset and reasoning of my journey, is no longer clear to me, not because it wasn't sharply detailed, but because much happened since then and I wasn't prepared to remember so much at once. The impressions were of a bustling starting point, perhaps a city. I don't remember who I spoke to, but I was given items to carry and more importantly a task that involved going out across this land-bridge section and into wider lands, a wilderness in comparison to where I was coming from, yet vital to my agreed upon journey.
I vaguely remember so many voiced opinions; some would be encouragements, while other would wonder why I am doing this. Still, I walked across the bridge and into the area I wanted to explore. This wasn't some park or hiking trail, but felt like an entire land, and I experienced some of the very long stretches of walking in between meeting others. Along my way, following the vague structure of "circling" the land (basically completing a circuit) I came across all kinds of people. Some were alone and sad, or happy to be alone and not traveling; the most interesting were the various groups.
I would pause to visit with them all before continuing. Some huddled together because they just wanted the company while they were inactive or at a loss (purposeless), others were jovial, working together to build houses or playing games. Often groups would ask me to stay, almost as if advertising that their group was the one to join; despite the enticement and my increasingly tiredness, I would politely decline, thank my hosts, and move onward. At one point I remember carrying a bottle of (maybe) wine or fancy beverage tucked under one arm, and a football (American version) tucked under the other arm, and knew they were gifts from some I had met in my travels--which were becoming quite extensive at this point. I remember feeling the need to experience it all. At one point, someone (when I was inevitably turning them down) asked why I kept going, what was my point, and I simply responded with a shrug that it was my duty (responsibility), and as much as I sometimes wanted to, as much as I paused at various interesting groups, I wasn't going to stop.
This became very difficult to fulfill, since at some points when I was on the "back stretch" of the circuit I would stumble, or pause at a particularly welcoming group. I think I gave some of them the gifts I carried with me (the special drink and football, at least), not like a re-gifting, but more of a passing along goodness that I had experienced from some and were now sharing with others. However, always the journey (and my duty) carried me onward. When I drew in sight of the land bridge, I became emotional; it had been *such* a long journey with so many fascinations, and now I was so exhausted almost to the point of wanting to collapse and weep for a whole range of reasons (overwhelmed by the experience, loss, closure, unsure expectations, and so on). But I pushed myself with all my willpower, up and across, even while the doubts persisted of if I had acted correctly/done well.
I approached a fondly smiling man who glowed slightly (and I swear I got the impression he could float even though he wasn't doing so, I don't think--I was mainly focused on what he said). "You've had a wonderful journey and learned much." To which I said something to the effect of, "You don't know the half of it!" "Oh, I think I do," he replied with a grin, "and now we grow richer with what you collected." I handed him what I had been (somehow) carrying all along, and knew it was like a black box, a perfect recording of all the gained experiences and circumstances.
I must have also handed over my tiredness and weight of doubts because those no longer bothered me as I continued into the joyous atmosphere (it was like the safest, most fun carnival atmosphere where I could tell everything was genuine). The thing I remember best is the music, like an enormous, amazing jam session with all kinds of instruments; I saw one youngster with long curly hair rocking out on an accordion (LOL), flinging his hair from side-to-side in time. I remember thinking that it ought to sound grating and not fit for the cacophony of music, but it fit just as well as the individual joining in on the fun, and it was the kind of performance that wasn't *for* me and yet like all truly great performances *involved* me even as an audience. As I was waking up, I knew I could have joined in, found an instrument or raised my voice, and that it would (finally) fit, but for the time, I was content to just soak it all in. Home.
This is one of those overwhelming dreams we are meant to experience yet not be able to recall; with each waking breath more and more of it fades, much quicker than many other dreams I've had. Yet since I am practiced and like sharing, I feel I retained enough for it to be worth it. I'm convinced we have many of these kinds of formative dreams over our lives, but as a part of the design, they are hard to "speak the language" and retain details, only vague impressions that we then apply (consciously or not) to our waking lives. This is effectively a learning-growing tool, and I am grateful to be aware of it and to be able to share.
The beginning, the outset and reasoning of my journey, is no longer clear to me, not because it wasn't sharply detailed, but because much happened since then and I wasn't prepared to remember so much at once. The impressions were of a bustling starting point, perhaps a city. I don't remember who I spoke to, but I was given items to carry and more importantly a task that involved going out across this land-bridge section and into wider lands, a wilderness in comparison to where I was coming from, yet vital to my agreed upon journey.
I vaguely remember so many voiced opinions; some would be encouragements, while other would wonder why I am doing this. Still, I walked across the bridge and into the area I wanted to explore. This wasn't some park or hiking trail, but felt like an entire land, and I experienced some of the very long stretches of walking in between meeting others. Along my way, following the vague structure of "circling" the land (basically completing a circuit) I came across all kinds of people. Some were alone and sad, or happy to be alone and not traveling; the most interesting were the various groups.
I would pause to visit with them all before continuing. Some huddled together because they just wanted the company while they were inactive or at a loss (purposeless), others were jovial, working together to build houses or playing games. Often groups would ask me to stay, almost as if advertising that their group was the one to join; despite the enticement and my increasingly tiredness, I would politely decline, thank my hosts, and move onward. At one point I remember carrying a bottle of (maybe) wine or fancy beverage tucked under one arm, and a football (American version) tucked under the other arm, and knew they were gifts from some I had met in my travels--which were becoming quite extensive at this point. I remember feeling the need to experience it all. At one point, someone (when I was inevitably turning them down) asked why I kept going, what was my point, and I simply responded with a shrug that it was my duty (responsibility), and as much as I sometimes wanted to, as much as I paused at various interesting groups, I wasn't going to stop.
This became very difficult to fulfill, since at some points when I was on the "back stretch" of the circuit I would stumble, or pause at a particularly welcoming group. I think I gave some of them the gifts I carried with me (the special drink and football, at least), not like a re-gifting, but more of a passing along goodness that I had experienced from some and were now sharing with others. However, always the journey (and my duty) carried me onward. When I drew in sight of the land bridge, I became emotional; it had been *such* a long journey with so many fascinations, and now I was so exhausted almost to the point of wanting to collapse and weep for a whole range of reasons (overwhelmed by the experience, loss, closure, unsure expectations, and so on). But I pushed myself with all my willpower, up and across, even while the doubts persisted of if I had acted correctly/done well.
I approached a fondly smiling man who glowed slightly (and I swear I got the impression he could float even though he wasn't doing so, I don't think--I was mainly focused on what he said). "You've had a wonderful journey and learned much." To which I said something to the effect of, "You don't know the half of it!" "Oh, I think I do," he replied with a grin, "and now we grow richer with what you collected." I handed him what I had been (somehow) carrying all along, and knew it was like a black box, a perfect recording of all the gained experiences and circumstances.
I must have also handed over my tiredness and weight of doubts because those no longer bothered me as I continued into the joyous atmosphere (it was like the safest, most fun carnival atmosphere where I could tell everything was genuine). The thing I remember best is the music, like an enormous, amazing jam session with all kinds of instruments; I saw one youngster with long curly hair rocking out on an accordion (LOL), flinging his hair from side-to-side in time. I remember thinking that it ought to sound grating and not fit for the cacophony of music, but it fit just as well as the individual joining in on the fun, and it was the kind of performance that wasn't *for* me and yet like all truly great performances *involved* me even as an audience. As I was waking up, I knew I could have joined in, found an instrument or raised my voice, and that it would (finally) fit, but for the time, I was content to just soak it all in. Home.
This is one of those overwhelming dreams we are meant to experience yet not be able to recall; with each waking breath more and more of it fades, much quicker than many other dreams I've had. Yet since I am practiced and like sharing, I feel I retained enough for it to be worth it. I'm convinced we have many of these kinds of formative dreams over our lives, but as a part of the design, they are hard to "speak the language" and retain details, only vague impressions that we then apply (consciously or not) to our waking lives. This is effectively a learning-growing tool, and I am grateful to be aware of it and to be able to share.
