Dream of: 31 July 1987 "An Utter Failure"
While in my bedroom at my Apartment in the Dallas Zen Center, I heard some commotion in the next room. In an effort to scare someone away whom I thought was dangerous, I began screaming and screaming. There was a window between my bedroom and the kitchen and I tried to go through it to the kitchen. Suddenly my mother appeared in the kitchen and she thought I was attempting to break into the kitchen. In her hand she was holding a blue sock which appeared to have another sock inside it. She began slinging the sock at me trying to hit me.
Finally I got into the kitchen and began trying to calm her down. She finally realized who I was and backed off.
I was standing on the back balcony of the Apartment talking with several people about Roger Anderson. It appeared that during the commotion, Roger either died or was killed. I was unsure exactly what happened to him. I said that Roger had been a complete failure in his life. I said, "An utter failure."
Some people there seemed to think saying such things about someone who had died was a bit inappropriate.
I continued explaining that the one goal Roger had in his life was to be a writer. For him, nothing else really mattered, except fulfilling that goal. I pointed out that Roger was now dead and that he hadn't written anything.
An older man who reminded me somewhat of Ed Dee (a Dallas acquaintance) walked up and also commented that Anderson hadn't published anything during his life. I remembered that Anderson had actually written a book which was probably still in rough form at his home. Someone mentioned something about having it published and I said something snide about how that wouldn't be like Anderson to get something published.
Since I knew the book had never been completed and put into any kind of publishable form, Anderson hadn't really accomplished what he had set out to do.
I felt sad that Anderson had died a complete failure, but such were the facts and I couldn't alter them.
I realized that I had been dreaming about Anderson and that he hadn't actually died. I thought that after I had written the dream down, I needed to send it to Anderson to see what he thought about it. I anticipated he would be a little surprised and shocked because I had regarded him as being a failure in life because he had never written anything, but I really felt as if that were the truth and as if Anderson would probably understand that was the truth.
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