So last night I had the most amazing dream. (Even better than the Conan O'Brien and Adam Savage dream!) And chances are that if you're reading this, you were in my dream! How cool is that? (You were clothed, I promise.) As is usually the case, I can only remember snippets of it in vivid detail, the rest of it is rather amorphous and has been reduced to a series of snapshots and emotions.
Now, over the years I've done a lot of analysis of my own dreams. I've come to understand a lot of the symbolism that my mind uses to show me things or work through problems. An example: If I dream of the house where I grew up, or a school that I went to, I'm usually trying to work through an issue that happened at that time, when I was in that mindset. I look at my own mind like a high rise condo, so buildings in my dreams tend to refer to minds/attitudes from that specific time in my life. Also, I have vivid dreams. Full color, full sensation. Faces of others, though, can be blurry or completely wrong. Many times I will dream of someone and only get the "feel" of them, rather than see their face as I know it.
With me so far?
Okay. So...last night's dream started with me walking along the halls of my junior high school. I was with two girls that I had passing friendships with. We were all grown up and strolling down memory lane in a very literal sense. So, one of the girls looks at the next room we're about to enter... it's the high school auditorium and we can hear a theater production going on.
"I'm not going in there," she says. "If I had it to do over again I never would've gone in there."
I step away from the two women, look in the door and I see images from my past swirling about. There's my drama teacher, there's my first boyfriend, there's my last performance on that stage. All of these events are walking along the same stage at the same time, all unaware of one another. It's like I can see threads between them, one that leads to another.
I look at the girls and say, "I'm going in."
And as I step inside, it changes. I'm in the high school auditorium, yes, but EVERYONE is there. All of my friends and teachers from high school, people that graduated before me, after me, with me... past present and future of this place are all in one area. The stage is in front of me, the seats are all packed around me... to the left is a huge open door. In the next room I can see a similar place... People mingling and smiling, laughing. Among them I see my college professors and friends that I went to ISU with.
A voice asks if I want to go there.
"No," I say, "I don't need to right now."
So, I stay in the high school auditorium and things get blurry for a while. I walk around, I talk with people, I share memories and smiles. Contact is fleeting but potent. Then, I'm walking backstage and through another door and I'm in the old band room. Once again, the place is bursting with people. Now, all of us are wearing the purple. Satin jackets or letter coats, t-shirts with show themes from decades past. There are people here who marched the drumline before I started elementary school. There are trombone players reminiscing over the "Zifflemeyer" story. Directors are trading secrets. I sit down among a wall of drummers and look down to see I'm in my old regalia--baggy jeans, band t-shirt, Chucks and a band jacket. I've got sticks in my pocket. Everyone there is in their personal prime. Some may be 30 and others may be 16, but everyone is at a place of comfort.
I look around the room and I can see that other me...the one who was mingling with the theatre group in her torn jeans and white button-down. Past her I can see the choir robes and Madrigal costumes. Beyond her I see that room that leads to ISU.
This is where I'm hit with a wave of emotion and the emotion has words inside of it. Kinda like a fortune cookie--only tastier and more filling.
It says - "You are all here. All of you. And you are all as you should be. All parts of you shine. All parts of you have meaning. All of you are good."
I just stand there in awe and whisper, "Wow."
My husband joins me and the memory place falls away. Like a pond reflection rippling when a stone hits the surface.
"I just had the most awesome dream," I tell him. "I need to write this one down."
That was a kick ass dream.
I'm glad I walked into that room.