I Had a Dream
I had the strangest dream. Not because of its content but because I honestly can’t remember when I had it. To me that is very strange. Here I am in this day, this perfectly normal day – except that today, unlike any other day I remember a dream – today I suddenly remembered this dream. This is real – this is a real memory, yet it’s as if something is speaking to me – something has built this memory in aid of establishing a thread between reality and some analog – between this life and a metaphor for it. It’s the strangest feeling. Why should I remember this now when I have had the dream and I know both how strong it is and how much it pleased me? How can I not remember where in my life this dream was placed? I couldn’t tell you if you tried to force it from me whether I had this dream as a ten year old, or as a full grown man. I have no idea. But right now I remember it clearly.
Here is the dream; there is a valley somewhere west of here and it contains an entire world of beauty – like another planet – the entrance is attained by traversing upward an innocent path that leads to a cliff – the view from which is a picture perfect vista of lush forest, satin sky and a known destination – just there at the horizon on the other side – a most desirable and perfect place – at the top of the other side of the valley. At the entrance on this side, the place where I stand – descent isn’t difficult if you choose to use it, and at the base where you end up is a place where the walls are terraced stone and scrub – one end slopes up in a giant bowl – like a coliseum or open cathedral, but huge – the size of a mountain. The valley itself is so large that mountains exist within it – the slopes up to the foothills are immense.
I have taken people to it – my brother – some friends, but I can’t remember exactly the time or which friends. I know the other side is perfection without peer – it’s the reason the valley exists – so that you can go there and look back to where you have been – that spot is perfect in a physical way, an emotional way, and in every sense – in every way it’s perfect. Although I know this at the outset – at the peak of the commitment – at the top of the path that descends – the idea always pleases and at the same time disturbs me – the depth of commitment to going there. I always hesitate, but I know both that I’ve been there and will go again. I know the draw of the place will overcome my trepidation and I will end up where I want to be.
The feeling of wanting to share this place with others is afterthought – it seems incidental. It seems now that the quality of the place is the whole point. The draw of that place is paramount. As if the dream exists as a map to itself – reminding one that a perfect dream was had.
Peculiar. Pleasing and optimistic. And again, very strange.