the 3 interlinked Dreams of 1st Gregorian month day 18, 2014

The young boy came in with his mother and I thought of entertaining him so I invited him to look at a little gadget that was presented to me some time ago. It was like a mini vending machine with an upper slot that accepted tickets and depending on the kind of tickets in possession, it would spew out a gift from the slot below. It wasn’t exactly mine but it was seating there in my dream room.  I wanted to make the young boy happy since his mom was always busy so I searched in my pockets and found a strip of tickets that had the picture of one gold coin on each ticket and I passed one to the child. Just one, I thought, as I had no idea that the gadget would actually work and if it did not, well, at least, he would not be too disappointed … the young boy excitedly slotted in his ticket. We waited for a few seconds and true enough: a lovely gold coin spewed out. Okay you can have more now and pass the strip of tickets to him. I went on my way…….
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A gathering of people in this large complex, like a modern-day coliseum  surrounding a field in the middle – quite clean and quite bright – not dimly-lit dungeons, for sure. There were lots of people walking around, obviously awaiting some gastronomical delight to come out from the works. An acquaintance that I probably knew only on ethnic similarity approached the group I was in (but had no idea who they were!..) and mentioned something about not being able to start the party as there was no supervisor in the kitchen. He looked at me. “Ah-ah,” I thought, “I am not attuned to operating kitchens (:  Don’t really like to spend time chopping stuff.” “No, you don’t need to do the works. You just need to supervise..” Well, I thought, that is try-able since everyone is hungry and the party has to start. I followed him downstairs and into the large brick-built kitchen with a chimney where many bare-bodied helpers with greasy aprons were cooking. First we got to prepare the tigers. Tigers? I thought…now that is something I never thought of. I thought it was some culinary pleasures that was more an everyday affair, but what do you mean ‘tigers’?? I turned and saw, atop this round, large well-like structure that had a metal lid on top, crouched there silently were two huge giant, brown, furry Tibetan mastiffs. I walked to the front to look at their faces: as droopy and as sad as ever. They looked like twins, chained to the metal lid. The kitchen butcher led one of them away to the end of the kitchen wall where a ditch laid.  Sitting up, that massive mastiff was at least 4 to 5 blocks high, so tall and big yet, so quiet and gentle. I looked up in awe. I cannot believe its gentleness although its neck was chained. Maybe that is the reason. With one swoop or bite, it could have taken that butcher’s head off. He had a terrible sharp dagger that he was about to plunge into that huge animal. The mastiff started to groan and I realized that the long ditch would allow blood to flow out..it was that place of slaughter. 

mastiff

In a fit I rushed to that acquaintance upstairs who first asked me to ‘supervise’. He has to stop this. I shouted to him, but he was not willing to help, at least not in the direction that I was going…so I rushed back to the brick kitchen. The giant Tibetan mastiff, the one that was about to be slaughtered, simply looked at the butcher and sat there crying and groaning in protest. I wish to slaughter the slaughterer but that butcher was a muscled guy, bare shoulders and tough and I knew I could not win a fight. I did what I was reluctant to do…. kneel down and beg for mercy for the dogs.

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Another gathering – one of great expressions and diversity – in this large lovely meadow. People circu-ambulating this pyramid structure, in their various groups. Some singing, some dancing, some holding hands or each other’s hips in a line. All kinds of rituals but peaceful. ‘Robert Taylor’ was my companion.  At the back of my heart, it felt like the young boy that I met in the first portion of the dream and he has now grown to be a young man. He does not seem happy at all. We walked and witness the throngs of worshippers and revelrers. Soon, we reach the edge of the grounds and enter a building and a flight of spiral staircase upwards. Why are you so bitter? I asked ‘Robert Taylor’. He has his cap on, covering his face and was seated now beside a table still silent. I had an inkling that he has some unfinished business with his parents. His mom was in the adjacent bedroom. He went there to meet the mom. I was like a spectator, perhaps, invisible or now part of the background. Maybe that’s why he did not say anything. Jane Goodall was there, in the room. She was the Bodhisattva, the mediator. The young man had a long-awaited heart-to-heart talk with his mom. I hear them speak but could not make out what it was …. and it seems like he has an angst deep in his heart that the parents were not there for him in his younger days. There was a great emptiness that nothing in his life, so far, could fill. Jane Goodall’s presence was like peaceful energy flowing…… Finally, the young man gradually opened the vault of the unspoken words buried in his heart for so many years and that was the link to clear his angst and a lot of why this and why that to the mother. The mother reminded me of the character Armande in ‘Chocalat’. The same stern tight-lipped exterior with yet a possible soft spot – a very hard to find spot that must have been challenging to a sensitive young man. The froze in their relationship started to thaw as they cleared the misunderstanding. I waited. And as the froze thawed, mother and son started to dance in a hug and soft exchange of questions and answers. And I thought, “oh, he is holding only a head ….,” I turned and looked at their dancing image in the standing mirror behind me — a sigh of relief, yes, the Amande-looking mom did have a body, quite a full body. But it was not a full resolution to those years of relational issues. You cannot let heart issues go for too long between people for that many years as it will not be ever totally resolvable, only partially and like weeds in a garden, you would just have to accept a semi-fulfilled existence. The young man noticed that the mom was thirsty and as a good son, he laid her onto her armchair and went to get her a glass of water. I approached the elderly lady on the armchair and knew that the young man had one major heart issue that was still seeking for an answer but he had gone to get water. “The boy told me that once he had traveled afar and when he came home, someone had changed the frame of the picture of his life, a change that altered the whole course of his life unbeknownst to him…till the time it was not possible to return to what the original was meant to be….it baffled him when his life was altered like that, without him knowing, without being told. Who changed the frame as it was such a personal thing… was it you?” I asked the mother gently. “Yes,..” replied the mother, “both his dad and I changed the frame….” Now we have confirmed the answer. I knew when he arrive back with the glass of water, he would find that she has passed as life has passed as his has passed, like a dream, and he would be there by her side and in tears.

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I have been dreaming a memorable dream and I was in my bed. I awoke and turn to see my little girl awake staring at me with those lovely bright brown eyes and her usual smile. She said, “Hey.”

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