dreams: September 08, 1998
the divine presence in Anna-Rose's home
I'm at Anna-Rose Mathieson's house, in the kitchen. She's in the other room.
I'm toasting many, many English muffins. There are about 10 different
types of toasters set up all around the kitchen; I'm putting handfuls
of the muffins in the slots to get toasted. They are becoming
beautifully toasted, and I'm running around taking them out of the
toasters as they pop up, putting them in a stack on a plate. I taste
one, and it has a good crisp texture.
Anna-Rose says says she has something to show me. I put aside
the English muffins. She tells me that her parents have a gift for me.
She brings in a HUGE box (it looks like a stage setup), setting it
down on the kitchen floor; it unfolds into a giant set of colorful
crayons. I'm blown away, telling her how incredible it is. There
are tons of different colors. Each crayon is about as tall as my
waist (taller?). I pull one out -- light sky blue -- and test it out
on a paper on the floor. It's really smooth and vibrant. Her parents
made the set for me! I feel so loved. Anna-Rose lifts it up to show
me the elaborate wood case, a structure that her mom "custom-routered"
for my crayons.
Her mom walks into the kitchen. We look at each other and
have a special moment, a real connection. "Thank you!!" I tell her.
We hug. A couple seconds pass, and then she aks me to "put my
stomach into it [the hug]." I realize that because she is so tall,
we were merely embracing with our arms/shoulders. I then pull my whole
body into the hug, and suddenly we're connected at all points of our
bodies. We feel perfectly united. I close my eyes and sink into the
feeling. It feels like divine love, two humans' spirits becoming ONE.
This is the feeling I've been striving for in my meditations. It is
amazing bliss. It is knowing that God is always here with us. It
is trusting that everything is perfect. It is love. Finally after
a LONG moment (though time didn't really exist), we let go.
I feel
total gratitude. I admire the crayons some more, completely appreciative
of the generous present. They're not wax. They are huge cylindrical
blocks of chocolate wrapped in colorful foil. I'm excited but worried,
thinking I might eat the whole box. We are trying to pack up the box
for me to take home later. Someone picks it up to roll up, but some
crayons come flying out. I see Anna-Rose's dad coming in from the next
room (which has many shelves of old big books, like a library). He's
carrying an additional armful of crayons like they're pieces of
firewood. He looks like an old man, carefully hobbling along, a
distinguished man (like the elderly actor at OSF). I tell him thank you,
and we hug (normal). I want to be sure to show that I'm grateful of
this family's expressions of love.
It is dinner time, and Anna-Rose's mom has made a meal. She's
now serving the first course of gourmet appetizers. She leads us into
the dining room next door.
Mom is now
with us. I show her the crayons. Then she and I are sitting down
in a tight little space together; it feels like a lower kitchen
cupboard without a door. She whispers to me, asking what Anna-Rose's
mom's name is. I can't remember. We smile at each other, knowing
how awkward forgetting names can be. I'm inclined to say Jacqueline.
I sit down at the dining room table. Jacqueline (Anna-Rose's mom) is
amazing, having made a gourmet, white, creamy soup that she's now
ladling into cups. There is also a scoop of green guacomole on my plate
and thick fancy corn chips in a basket. An elegant Koala spritzer can
of juice is at my setting; it hasn't yet been opened. There is a
spoonful of salsa on the top, with a chip sticking up out of it like
a flag. I admire the whole setup, telling Anna-Rose's mom that she
did a really fabulous job, "like she always does." She's modest and
humble.
Charley
Hoye is sitting on the other side of the room with Anna-Rose's dad
on a couch. Kathie Olsen walks in. "Happy Father's day," says
Charley. Kathie sits down on my left, at the head of the table.
Jacqueline is across from me, farthest left.
She has a cup of red wine at her setting, next to a spray bottle
full of red wine. She tells us that ten years ago she was an
alcoholic, but now she can drink socially without any problem. She
has a scientific theory she knows is true: the genes change after ten
years, and you can lose your alcoholism. Mom is sitting across from me.
She's wearing white. She agrees with Jacqueline, saying she herself is
a "recovered alcoholic." There is a moment of silence. I have a
questioning, cynical look on my face. I think of how her last relapse
was only a month ago.
Anna-Rose is sitting across from me too.
Noli is
on my left. Charley and Anna-Rose's dad join us at the table. There's
a very small space between the right side of the table and the wall.
A petite old grandmother woman squeezes through that space to get to
the empty space on the other side of the table.
We are all still talking about drinking. I cannot believe
what Mom is saying. She's in total denial of her own problems, and
it's making me feel irritated. I express these feelings by having
a snotty look on my face and rolling my eyes. But I don't want to
bring any negative energy to this table, as I know that it would be
disrespectful to the Mathieson family. Kathie catches my look and
says, "You know, you get to a certain point in your life when you realize
that you can't blame anyone else for your own problems -- you have
to just take ownership." I feel the impact of her statement. I personally
need to stop shifting the blame of my problems onto Mom. Kathie
talks about blame some more, and about taking responsibility for
your own life by not playing the role of "victim." I think about
the whole truth of that idea.
Jacqueline talks about growing up in NYC when she was a young
kid. She's done a lot of amazing things in her life. She is getting
ready to serve the next course of food. I haven't yet finished my
serving of the sauteed mushrooms (a soup); it looks like beautiful,
pure, light sherrels on my plate.
is it porn?
NEXT, I'm in the living room of the house
with a group of
friends.
We're in a bed together in the corner of the room, facing the wall
(to the computer room). They are old high school friends. A big
TV is on the wall. We are watching a show in which a bunch of sexy
women are wrestling and fighting to win, like Xena Amazon warrior
women. Men are in it too. I saw a preview, and I know what's going
to happen (a clip when one woman ends up straddling someone else in
a provokative way). Adam Eisen is on the bed. He's cheering the
show on. A group of young high school boys walks in the house, crossing
the room to sit in the chairs that are set up to face the TV. They
watch the show too. I talk out loud, questioning what we're watching.
"Are we all watching pornography?" I ask. "Is this a porn show?"
Then I'm standing at the front door talking to Shana Cooper. She
wants to go to Jacob's party at his house (for Halloween?). I tell
her that if I go, it will make him uncomfortable because I always make
him feel uncomfortable. I don't think he likes me.
- FIN -