I dreamt a future. Not my future. Blue skin is not part of my genetic makeup.
I rarely dream. Or maybe it’s that I can only recall a few dreams. Either way, I can count my dreams on one hand and retell the events. That’s one reason I knew this dream was unique. It broke my dream pattern.
This future dream came on the heels of the Germanwings plane crash in Alps this past March. According to news agencies, the co-pilot had locked himself in the cockpit and flew the plane, and all the people onboard, into a mountain killing them all. All those people held hostage, all those lives taken in such a calculated manner. No one should have that kind of power.
My dream was short and intense. A tall blue woman stood near a stream that fed into a city and watched a spacecraft fall from the sky. Flames licked the ship’s silver skin as it disappeared beyond the tallest buildings. The dream ended, and I kept on sleeping.
In my world, dreams have always just that, dreams. I didn’t have any strong feelings or beliefs about them. Throughout my life I’ve talked about them, and on occasion laughed off the fear they initially produced.
My first dream took place when I was seven. At the time, I was in Germany where I stayed with my aunt and uncle. Swirling leaves of death chased me through the streets of Hannover. I scrambled under a car, and screamed as the leaves followed and pricked me. I woke up crying. That dream set the pattern, and my subsequent dreams followed suit.
My second dream occurred much later in my life. I watched an angry mob chase a friend in a Santa suit. The nighttime scene was lit by a town engulfed in flames, and as they ran towards me I scrambled up a tree. I turned in time to see a train just before it hit me. I sensed my body flying through the air and I woke up with a jerk.
The third dream was by far the shortest. In my dream I woke up, opened my eyes and found a man standing over me with a shovel raised over his head. I closed my eyes and waited for the shovel to hit me. When it didn’t, I woke up in a sweat.
None of my first three dreams resembled my life. Swirling leaves of death have never chased me, I’ve never been hit by a train and a man with a shovel has never appeared. The pattern in each is similar though. It’s a pattern of violence, loss and intense feelings. These situations could apply to just about anyone. Just take a look at the news. What affects one, affects many.
My latest dream is an alternate view. In it, I observe a world where violence occurs, but loss and intense feelings are not apparent, yet. Part of me says the blue lady gets to choose a path, and loss and intense feelings will follow. It’s the difference between allowing fear to call the shots and making decisions in spite of fear. It’s a way to diminish the power of violent acts. And no matter what I believe about dreams, this is a pattern I’d like to repeat, both asleep and awake.
© Jan Joe and Born in the year of the dog, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jan Joe and Born in the year of the dog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.