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Dream 1-6-16

January 6, 2016

I was at Ronald Reagan’s funeral. In fact, I was officiating. There had been a funeral just before his, so I knew the procedure. He was lying there in his hospital bed in front of the people attending, and I was standing at his left shoulder. Someone from a western state—Idaho or Utah—had sent a prayer for chemistry, and the prayer and a little bottle of chemical was tucked into his right arm pit. A med had to be self-administered into the front of his left shoulder. We both knew about that, because we had seen the person before him do it. When the time came, he clearly was anxious about it, so I rubbed his head and neck a bit, and said something encouraging, and he smiled and said okay let’s get this done. He took the syringe and quickly, and I thought a bit too violently, plunged the needle in. I knew how that worked, having administered meds to myself. I wasn’t sure that he had removed the cover from the needle. I thought it would be good to slow down and let him become calmer, so I talked with a woman sitting to his right about making sure of the sequence and that things were going well. He seemed okay with it. Then I thought, wait a minute. We’re all here to bury him, and he’s alive. I couldn’t make sense of it.

I woke up.

*     *     *     *     *

Yesterday I was thinking about how important it is to be able to hold two “equal and opposite truths” in one’s mind at the same time, or even three, knowing that hey, life is like that. Good sense allows life to be that way. As the dream ended I was allowing that both opposites were equal and true, but I couldn’t make sense of it. But now, of course, awake, it’s obvious to me that “life/alive” and “death/dead” are intertwined, multi-dimensional states, and shouldn’t be taken literally; as I was thinking yesterday, it’s neither either/or nor neither/nor.

At the same time, it’s equally true that factually there is an enormous difference between someone (or something) being alive or being dead; and I think that one of the great failures of imagination on the part of some individuals and groups is that they can’t accurately conceive of that difference or of what a huge difference it makes.  They don’t make sense of it, and their ability to valorize crumbles.

And btw, take down that wall, Mr. Trump.

I think, too, that this dream illustrates how it wasn’t that I woke up, ending the dream by ending my dreaming, but rather, the dream arrived at its Aristotelian end, the story had been told, so I woke up.

From → dreams, Uncategorized

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