A DREAM

February 24, 2022

THREE TURNS OF THE KEY

 

I HAD ONE OF THOSE “TRUTH” DREAMS THIS AFTERNOON. 

I’d been napping in the early PM, having gotten to sleep late the night before. Bad habits. But, in my dream I was with some group, going through the usual maze of rooms and buildings, with the usual sort of dream meanderings and doings that are so important at the time, but quickly forgotten after you wake. 

 

I came out of an alleyway, onto a street. It’s one near where I happen to live, here in Barrie. There was a street-scene happening, like an outdoor market or Sunday fair. There were booths and display tents in the street and on the sidewalks. People, families were walking about; everyone was laughing, talking, buying ice cream and so on. There was a carnival atmosphere. I remember setting up a lawn chair that I happened to be carrying for some reason (it’s a dream after all). I set it up in the middle of a crosswalk at the junction where my street joined another, at a “T” shaped intersection, with me at the head looking down the length or “leg” of the "T" to the bottom of the street.  

There was no car traffic; both streets had been closed off because they were making a movie, and the locals were out in force to gawk. 

 

AN OLD MAN carrying some shopping came out of a store and crossed the street, almost bumping into me, and I was annoyed, wondering why he nearly clipped me; it seemed unnecessary and unfriendly. Then, I thought: "Well, I am in the way; I’m in the middle of the crosswalk." But I was annoyed again almost immediately when I saw he could have crossed the street anywhere because there was no traffic; the street was filled with tents and display tables, and people milling about. He could have taken a shorter and more direct route to where he was going, not needing to cross at the intersection where I sat. But my better angels won the day and, with some chagrin, I came to accept that he'd acted that way because he was old and too used to crossing the street at the crosswalk to change his routine.

 

FROM WHERE  I SAT I could look down the street to the movie set where they were filming, though there were no cameras visible. (Who needs cameras in a dream?) The street ran for two or three hundred feet to another intersection where the set was made up like another carnival, but it was old-fashioned, and reminiscent of the 1890s, with period costumes and so on. The whole thing had a festive and friendly atmosphere, like a 'mini Mariposa'. The action scene they were filming was of a tram car about to leave the movie set and climb a steep rail line running parallel to the street toward me and moving off to my right behind a row of houses. The rail line was more like a roller coaster which would continue climbing higher and higher, eventually passing out of sight behind me. (I should note I hadn’t noticed the rail line or knew the tram was about to go into action beforehand.)

 

I had a good view of the intersection and the movie set, and I studied the small carousel, the gazebo, the display tents and such, and thought about how the movie makers and set designers didn’t need to build a full-scale mock-up of a carnival; they only needed to put up certain buildings and facades and mechanical rides to give the impression of carnival, and then use camera angles and cinematic ‘tricks’ to create the illusion of the real thing.

THEN ACTION WAS CALLED, and the tram began to move. 

 

THERE WAS A GORGEOUS EXPLOSION of colour that burst from the movie set, all shimmering and summery, lush, and redolent, rising into the sky like liquid fireworks. The tram began to climb faster, gaining elevation as it raced away behind me. The location is familiar to me. The street I looked down, the "leg" of the "T", is one that fronted the old YMCA, and the tram-line ran behind a row of houses, past where the old gym had been. The colours during those few moments were vivid and kaleidoscopic as the tram car soared off into the dream world beyond.

AFTER A WHILE, A WOMAN standing beside me said something to the effect, “Well, that’s what it was like when we were young.” Her comment annoyed me, and I wanted to be quarrelsome, to make some response. Her words reminded me that I was old, but I thought that saying anything would be churlish and immature, so I simply nodded and smiled. Then I woke up.

 

INTERESTING WAS THE FACT that in my dream there were three junctures or venues where I examined what I was thinking or feeling: THE FIRST was when the old man brushed past me at the crosswalk. My initial reaction was annoyance; he'd invaded my personal space. But from his point of view, I was in his way with my lawn chair parked in the middle of the crosswalk. It became obvious that it was the only place he knew where, or felt safe, to cross the street. He didn’t understand, or seem to be aware, that the street was closed off to traffic for the carnival, that people were in the street all around, and it was okay to cross at any point. I suppose you could say I felt compassion for him; certainly, I accepted that his minor social transgression against me was understandable.

MY NEXT VENUE for self-examination was when I looked toward the movie set. I knew what I saw was fake, a mere 'Potemkin village'. After all, I was sitting in the middle of the real carnival just up the block. I’d been thinking in my dream how the set designers managed to give the illusion of reality with just a few set constructions. At that moment, the action exploded into the rich tapestry of colours and summery shapes I mentioned earlier. The little tram began its rapid climb up and away. And I guess my point here is that even though I knew it was an illusion, it nevertheless became a rich, visual experience that touched me deeply.

THE THIRD VENUE was when the woman reminded me that we—that I—was old, and all the pretty colours and shapes and tram rides were in our past. My first reaction was to say something negative; I don’t know what, but to somehow argue with her or negate her observation in some way. Instead, I said nothing, realizing in the end that what she said was, in fact, true.

 

I RECALLED THIS DREAM  because it was so vivid and colourful at the end, and the little tram seemed so happy racing away in far reaches of dreamland! (Any dream that makes you smile, or at least not grimace and grind your teeth, is a keeper in my books. Ahhh!)

AND MY TAKE-AWAY DREAM LESSON is that there will always be a need for compassion and understanding in our lives. There will always be a need for us to remain open to the wonders and delights of this world. And, finally, we will all need to accept things as they are, for that is all we can do.*

 

Cheers, Jake.

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* In these times of pandemics, lockdowns, roiling economies, and the sound of war drums, we need to appreciate our dreams, now more than ever—both from our sleeping and our waking lives.