A dream disguised as a lesson about the flow of energy

Copyright Cultural Intrigue

When I was on the verge of my adulthood (getting ready to turn 27 or 28, the eve of the Saturn Return — not the usual measuring stick of 21) I had a dream which has always mystified me until recently.

Let me explain. I am a long way from 27 now, but the details of the dream are so strong it has stayed with me through the rest of my adult life and as I stop to remember the way it made me feel, I revisit the giddy, buoyant feeling it engendered in me.

One of those “afternoon nap” sort of dreams, I had fallen asleep while working on an important project. I was doing architectural renderings for initial grant work for The Wow Hall in Eugene, Oregon. I had a studio i shared with other artists and architects on 12th near the university.

In the dream, I had just moved into a basement apartment. Even though it was a basement, it was very light. Light poured in from the casement windows very near the ceiling. The walls were painted a stark white and I was moving my things into their new places.

As I was putting some figurines and coffee cups holding little paper Chinese parasols onto a little niche-like shelf, a man appeared in the hallway. The front door was opened and he peered in.

“It’s too late,” I said, “I’ve already taken it and have started to move in.”

“I’m not here for the apartment,” he said and took out a violin and began to play.

His playing was exquisite. It stopped me in my tracks. I stood there, holding these coffee cups with their little parasols and listened to him play.

As he played, the man’s face changed from the handsome young man he appeared to be to a face lined, not only with age, but with a rainbow-like, slightly vibrating light.

“How long have you been playing?” I asked.

He laughed and put down the violin and as he did his face rippled with this vibrating, lined light.

“Oh,” he said, with a smile, “I’ve been playing for a very, very long time.”

As he said this he gestured that he wanted to gather me in his arms. I went to put the coffee cups down, because after hearing him play, I wanted to be gathered. He playfully began to spin the parasols with one of his fingers.

I reached up and stopped the spinning.

“Why do you always do that?” he wanted to know, looking into my eyes. I was sure were going to kiss. I could feel myself drifting into the kiss.

Then one of my studio-mates started knocking on my door and woke me up, which I still, even now, don’t forgive him for doing.

I am finally letting the parasols spin. I am.