I remember the words…”You have been chosen. You have a gift.”, and then nothing. No voice, no face, no bright light or winged creatures, no super powers, none of that, but I was conscious.
Well, I was as conscious as you can be in a dream. Being conscious in a dream is a state of mind more than it is something in words. You know the ones…you’re in a dream and you’re asleep but you’re making choices; ‘conscious unconsciousness’, bringing new meaning to ‘living the dream’. The irony is, when I stopped and thought about it I knew it was too late, I was awake. Deep exhale, eyes tight, even tried the roll my eyes back while closed trick (didn”t know that one, did you?) and every other get-my-dream-back technique I could think of but the light was coming through the blinds and it was gone.
Boiled water for chai, shave, shower, repeated the words…not to find any meaning or inspiration but simply to remember them. Dreams are like old 70’s Polaroids. They are clear and bright, even vivid, but as time passes they fade and spot and obscure and bend. What did they say? Who was talking? Was someone talking? What was I thinking about? Meanwhile in the shower, I tried to battle the dialogue from Apollo 13 that kept creeping in…images of Tom Hanks playing Jim Lovell looking through that little triangle window back at the earth then over to the moon kept popping into my brain. “Gentlemen, what are your intentions?”, he asked the rest of the crew when it was clear landing on the moon was no longer the mission. Focus, back to the dream, remember, just remember…
I didn’t tell my wife until she dropped me of at work en route to I don’t remember what with the kids. Today was the travelling aquarium two days after the night she fell asleep while I tried to explain. But that morning I looked over across the passenger seat and told her the words.
“What does it mean?”, she said.
“I don’t know.”