Journey Dreams

I have been getting very little sleep lately. Couple of hours here and there, really sucked into the journey, hardcore. So I shut it all off after my last blog entry and went to sleep and I had this dream. Just now. I never think my dreams really tell me anything, but here it was:

I was teaching in this new school, which was really a refurbished older school, only my classroom was laid out like a bedroom. There were these women who came, that used to teach there years ago. They were wise and independent and secure, felt like some sort of role model to me. I felt young agian; they talked about legacy and giving back to the next generation now that they could. And I listened and was inspired.

And one of the women, who was actually this teacher I had in tenth grade (she was probably a new teacher the year I had her but has been in education for about ten years now), told me she used to have my classroom and that she loved the fireplace. I smiled at her, thinking oh, I must have missed the fireplace. She wanted to show me, wanted to see the space. So we went to the room and she started telling me about how the classroom used to look, informal still, but bigger and older. It had been made smaller, more efficient and standardized, and the fireplace taken out. She remembered lots about the room, even the things in it. She showed me a notebook that she used to write in, and I found a place where she had written about me (only I had confused her in my dream with this older girl who had met me at a concert once) and so I dug through it. I realized I had written in this book, too. I got excitied and started to read.

She disappeared but I had more questions so I went looking for her. I got a rental car and went to LA and found some of her friends, some of the women from the school. One, the leader it seemed, had a shop, a book shop with the word Spank in the title. And I saw how she was so relaxed about it, and I felt good. I got back in the car, trying to decide what to do. And I got back out and started running, heading for San Fransisco...but it was a long run and so I went back for the car, not sure if I wanted to go or stay, my house or my childhood house. Which was home?

So I drove, fast. Like I always drive. And then I started up this ramp into a parking structure. But I was going too fast. And I knew there was a curve at the top, so I tried to brake, but this car, this car I was too young to have rented and knew it, was out of control. It flew up and off the building, flipping and spinning slowly. And I thought of the consequences; and the consequences were that someone was going to be angry that I was underage, my licence would be gone and I wouldn't be able to go to work, everything was ruined because I went looking but didn't know where to go. And as it was flipping, moving so fast into the air, so high, I left it, was thrown from it...sailed higher and higher until I knew that I wouldn't live once I hit the ground. But I couldn't face the end, that end. And so I forced myself awake.

I knew the second I woke up what I had been dreaming about. It. This. The journey. About the people who were there before me, about how it had been different for them, but only a little. About how we shared the same thoughts, how my thoughts were there before I even knew it. About passing it on, making it easier for the next person, about shame and pride. About confusion, about being alone and wanting to not be alone. About choosing between the past and the present, the old me and the new me. About not knowing which was which, or which was right. About trying to make endings, but coming at them too fast, too chaoticly, not ready to slow down. About owning my descisions and consequences. About worrying about the right things...my feelings, mine. About making a decsion to continue or end it. About which is the right one.

I am not sure about the clarity part. Can I tell you wether or not I can continue? No. But I do realize that when I shut it off, my brain, my body...something keeps looking at it. Trying to make sense of it, forces me to remember, if even just where I have been and where I am now. So, that's something. I think.