Dreams

I’ve always had the ability to remain calm and collected during times of great stress. The world, in a manner of speaking, could be on fire… and I would pause, assess my situation, and cautiously plan my next several moves. In such times, my dreams would roughly parallel reality. The dreams would be very lucid, almost tangible, and would leave me thinking about them long after waking.
One particular dream seems to reoccur periodically. The dream would pick up about where it left off previously but would then loop around and begin again… much like a skipping record. In the dream, I would be crouched on a narrow wall, looking inward, as best I could… into a small square-shaped, but very dark courtyard and, with what little light was available, a shadowy vapor-like mass could be seen lurking… wandering about. It moved much like a living organism and behaved as if it were intelligent. From time to time, I’d have to re position myself along the top of the wall trying to avoid the shadow below. It appeared to me that it was seeking me out but it didn’t know quite where I was. My periodic movements would attract its attention… and it would just be a matter of time before I’d have to move again, to avoid being caught.
The shadow had the air about it of malevolence and harshness. It filled me with a sense of dread and impending doom. From my vantage point along the wall, I could faintly make out that the ground below was slowly rising. As it rose, I could see the mist getting closer to reaching me. Moving away quickly and quietly as I could, I snuck along the wall to escape its reach. To my amazement, the wall must’ve been on an incline, because I could see that I was putting more height between myself and the following mist. The ground kept rising… I crept along… the mist kept coming…
Inevitably I’d awake with an uneasy feeling… with the dream fresh upon my mind. I’ve thought at length about the underlying meanings of this dream. I could feel my angst reflected perfectly in the dream. I’m the type of person who avoids conflict if at all possible. The mist symbolized the stressful situation at that point in my life. Moving along the wall just out of reach, and trying to not attract the attention of the mist, was my way of distancing myself from an unpleasant event. The ground rising up, to me, symbolized unresolved issues coming back to haunt me. The inclined wall was my temporary escape route.
Would the courtyard ground ever stop rising? Would the wall level off and allow the mist to reach me? Would I finally have to confront the mist?

About patrick

Master CNC machinist, entrepreneur, novice writer, and Mensan.

San Diego Mensa Scholarship Chair 2015-2017
San Diego Mensa Development Officer 2015-2018

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