Dreamt of this strange temple of sorrow. I was in a line with people I know, or have known through out my life. We were in a long line that stretched back as far as the eye could see, in front of what looked like, or rather felt like in that way things feel in dreams, a church or temple. I was at the front of the line, over to the side. As each person from my life got to the front of the line, a person in some kind of pain would be brought out of the temple and placed in front of those in line. Then a voice would ring out, telling everyone what was ailing the person in pain. "Brain tumor". "AIDS". "The Virus". And so on.
This went on for a while. Then a kid, a boy of about 12, was brought out. He was clearly in great pain, and it looked like he had been through several operations. His parents were on either side, weeping. It reminded me of The Pieta by Michelangelo. Only sadder. The voice spoke.
"He is racked with pain. He has many afflictions. It has not been detected yet, but a cancer will slowly kill him in the coming months and years".
His parents lost it.
I had that weird thing where, overcome with sorrow, I try not to cry, which only makes it worse. It's like clinging to the last shred of sanity before giving over to complete and utter dismay. My friends in the line, a couple who divorced many years ago but in the dream were the age they were when I met them, turned to me and told me I had to tell the parents of the sick child what was going on, because in their grief they couldn't hear what the voice had said.
I couldn't. I just held on by a thread, so very sad.
Then the alarm went off and I awoke to a chilly Friday morning.
I do come across a lot of sorrow, and have my whole life. I think that is true to greater and lesser degrees for all of us. Am I telling myself to stop holding the sadness in? Am I telling myself that when I let it out, which I do in my writing probably most of all, to address the truth of our pain and suffering? Was it a reflection of what I have seen of late, people angry and lost and scared, feeling powerless as day after day and moment after moment, strangers tell us of another tragedy while we stand in line, waiting for our own particular pain to be presented to us?
I don't know. "Dreams are toys," as Shakespeare wrote in The Winter's Tale, "And they can fuck with you".
Whatever the reason, it resonated with me and I feel more connected to reality after experiencing it. And I still find life magical and amazing and joyous, even with all the pain and suffering. Indeed, I think the pain and suffering necessitates our need to revel, to eat, drink and be merry- for tomorrow we die and today is probably going to have a lot of rough patches.
So let's put on some music that elevates our mood. Let's hug the ones we love. And let's be honest about what is going on out there and inside our souls, about our sadnesses and about our joys. Let us relish this life while we can.
Wow. Deep thoughts. A Blue Friday.
Maybe this song, a cover of New Order's Blue Monday by Orkestra Obsolete, will cheer us all up.
1 comment:
I see a message in your dream. You were given knowledge of the cancer that was detected in the child. Your friends in line told you to tell the parents of the boy about it. You saw your friends in line at the age they were years ago when your first met them. You know where they are now in their lives, which in a weird sense that makes it seem like you went back in time in the dream and knew their future. You could have told them that they would someday be divorced and consider whether your telling them their future would hurt them. Maybe you'd be afraid to hurt them, or maybe you would decide that it was up to them to choose how to react to what you told them. Similarly, you might have been afraid to tell the parents that their son had cancer. Would telling them the truth cause them more pain or less? If you were given this knowledge, is it more responsible for you to conceal it or share it? Since your friends were telling you to tell the parents the truth, it seems that you need to get over your fear and speak.
Post a Comment