I just woke from a
“powerful” dream that occurred like a story being told, with me
as the central character. It was such a beautiful story that even as
the dream was happening I thought, “I must write this down.”
The dream was a “saga”
dream, but I only remember a large and insignificant portion at the
last. I was a teenager in a van with other boys from a group home
and we had just come from a giant Walmart store that was bigger than
any Walmart I had ever seen (it took some time just for the van to
navigate its way out of the parking lot). We were being taken to
school, except some of the boys attended “special” schools and
had to be dropped off first.
The first stop was a small
school for very young children, or “mentally challenged” older
children. The dirver of the van seemed to tease me by jesting this
was my stop. Oddly though he referred to me by my initials “J.E.D.”
rather than my name, which made me uncertain in the dream if he was
even referring to me at all.
No one ended up getting
off at the first stop (and I wondered in the dream if I was the one
who was supposed to get off there) and the can moved on to the next
“school”, which turned out to be on the same block as the first,
but was clearly a prestigious university for “gifted” children.
The driver again announced the initials of the child the stop was for
only this time he said, “J.T.J.E.D.”, which confused me even more
until a younger boy (“J.T.” from “So You Think You Can Dance”
on T.V.) got out of the van. I assumed the boy's “full name” had
extra initials in it that sounded like my initials, and I maintained
this assumption even after the man who got out of the van to
accompany J.T. asked me to come also. I thought I was just asked to
join them as a tag-along, since I was a “new boy”.
But, after we entered the
grand foyer of the university --- an obviously private and
well-funded institution with grand spaces and ornate architecture ---
we were immediately approached by a young man who worked there and
who clearly knew who we were; all of us, even me. He handed both J.T.
and me a single piece of paper that I at first thought was an
acceptance application. But on closer examination I saw that it was a
test of some bizarre sort (involving shapes and letters), perhaps an
I.Q. test, and the one I received had already been partially
completed in what I recognized easily as my own handwriting!
I did not remember ever
having seen this “test” before, and I knew that I was not smart
in any “special” sense (i.e. no genius here), and I did not like
tests of this sort anyway (they always make me feel stupid even
though I usually do well on them). So, I approached the young man who
handed me the test and asked him what year it had been partially
completed.
The man responded by
flippantly saying, “Oh, yeah, you don't 'remember', do you?” He
then directed me to an administration desk, where a large
“admin-type” older woman informed me that the test had been
partially completed “during Jean's class” (or something of that
nature, indicating the year in association with the head professor
methinks).
She apparently assumed
that I had no desire to complete the test --- which I didn't --- so
she kept it and then pointed by way of indicating where I should go
next.
She pointed toward a large
(very wide) staircase, down which were coming “the” class of
special students. They were kids, teens, and a few young adults, and
they walked as a group, about seven to ten across and three or four
deep. The other boy I had come in with, J.T., approached them ahead
of me, and as he approached one of the older boys in the group who
seemed to be made of cast iron warned J.T. to stop doing what he was
doing or he'd get “fried”.
Apparently, all of these
“children” had “special powers” and by implication (of
acceptance into the school) so did J.T. and I. J.T. had been trying
out his “power” to control electric currents on the cast iron
boy, which was why that boy told him to stop.
If at this point you (the
reader) are thinking, “This dream sounds a lot like Xaviar's school
in the X-men movies,” well, I thought so, too. So I started
wondering what my “power” would be. I could tell that most of the
other children in the group seemed to disdainfully recognize me, and
seemed to fear me at the same time. So I thought I must have some
“super” power, like maybe mind-control, or the ability to
manipulate reality itself!
It turned out neither was
true. I did have a “super” power, but it was not like any power I
had ever seen or imagined before. Technically, it wasn't really a
“power” at all, but it gave people the ability to manipulate
power. Let me get back to the dream and try to explain how I slowly
became aware of my “power”.
I joined the class and we
lined up in the same foyer (off to one side) to await instruction
from our professor. I don't recall any professor ever showing up, but
suddenly one of the students apparently “lost control” of his
power and started flailing around on the ground. This was the first
indication I got of my own “curse” / “power”.
No. I did not cause the
other boy to lose control of his power. But, I did know that that was
what was happening. I didn't know how I knew, at least not at first.
I just “knew”, and the knowledge made me very sad.
I began to cry. And the
more I cried, the sadder I got. I didn't even know why I was so sad,
but the sadness was familiar. The sadder I got, and the more I cried,
the more I “remembered” about my “curse”.
I had the ability to know
things. I could know anything I wanted, even everything if I wanted!
But I didn't want to know everything, because it seemed the more I
knew, the sadder I got. So the thought of knowing everything was
unbearable!
Upon realizing what my
“power” / “curse” was, I ran out of the school. I
“remembered” being there before, and I remembered why I left. I
also “remembered” that I consciously chose to “forget” almost
everything, including my ability to “know” everything.
But now I was suddenly
remembering. I had to, because I had to “know”, no matter how
much it hurt. I just had to know.
First I “remembered”
how I “knew” the other boy had lost control of his power. I
actually saw into the other world where such “powers” are
manifested. And I could “see” the boy's “power” as a kind of
serpentine creature that erupted out of his mouth. Everyone else only
saw the boy flailing on the ground. But I “saw” what was “really”
happening, and that was what made me sad... not what I “saw”, but
the fact that I could “see” it is what made me cry. Because it
was a terrible “power”.
It's hard to explain why
such a “power” felt so terrible, like a curse. But, the absence
of mystery in life was the saddest tragedy of all. I understood in
the most direct way possible that life without ignorance is the most
painful of all!
The dream continued after
I left the school. I found my way to a nearby food court, or outdoor
restaurant of some sort, and then realized the professor from the
school had caught up with me (I knew he was following me all along of
course). He tried to explain to me that it was my “responsibility”
to use my “power” to help the world. I knew he was right, and
then also suddenly knew that I did in fact have the strength needed
to bear up under the pain of knowing everything. But, that knowledge
did NOT make me any more interested in knowing all. It seemed I
wanted to know “more”, but just not “everything”.
Then I finally woke up. I
heard the prison guard bringing around ice, which I needed to keep my
fat-free milk cold so I could enjoy it later. I wanted to go back to
sleep so I could “finish” the dream and find out what happened.
Would I choose to “remember everything” and “save the world”?
Or would I continue to hide in my ignorance?
Good question!
[J.D. September 16, 2016]
