Dream of: 12 August 1987 (2) "Another Man's Dead"

I was in the front room of the Dallas Zen Center (where I had been living in my second story Apartment). Now, however, another fellow (in his mid 30s) was living there instead of me. He was also in the front room, with three or four women. They were all engaged in some kind of activity – maybe story-telling or dream-telling, or maybe hypnosis. Whatever it was, it seemed very interesting and I wanted to join, so I sat in.

The activity stopped and the fellow brought out some little musical instruments that simply looked like sticks and gongs. One gong-like device on the floor seemed to consist merely of a slab of metal held by some wire. The device intrigued me and I wondered how it would sound if struck. I was given a stick.

Five or six of us were there, two men and the rest women. Slowly the others began humming and taping their sticks on their drum or gong. I quietly hummed along a little.

The woman to my left was sitting up on something raised so she was above me. She gradually began singing a song. It seemed as if she might be improvising as she went along, but the song was absolutely beautiful and her voice was rich. I was thoroughly charmed by her singing; the experience of listening to her was thrilling.

The song seemed to have about eight lines and told a little story. I could hardly get over just how moving the song was. I would have liked to sing a song myself, but I was unsure what to sing. I quickly composed a four-line song in my mind. The first line was, "Which way will you go now, my darling young son," and the last line was, "Another man's dead out along the line."  I was too shy to actually sing the song out loud. It vaguely seemed as if I might have borrowed some of the lines from songs of Bob Dylan.

The humming soon began again and I felt carried along with it. The humming reminded me of how my friend Eloise LaGrone (whom I first met at the Dallas Zen Center in 1987) and I had recently sung together and I thought Eloise would fit in so well there. The humming continued and turned into different notes which grew louder and louder. When the crescendo reached a climatic peak, I let myself go as I felt the tremendous beauty of the music flowing from me and mixing with the invogorating music of the others.

Suddenly everyone stopped - the silence was quite pronounced after such music. I recalled that Will Johnson (a member of the Dallas Zen Center) was moving into another apartment next door inside the Zen Center and I wondered if he could hear the music and whether he would be inclined to join in.

One woman sitting on the couch rose; apparently she itended to leave. She walked through the room and since the other fellow didn't move, I rose to show her out. I accompanied her to the door and mumbled something about its probably not being locked. I was vaguely attracted to the woman, but I didn't say much to her.

When I opened the door to the front porch, I could see that the door to the apartment where Will was moving was open. His apartment was right next to mine. I stepped inside and Will walked from the front room. He mentioned that he had just put some bamboo mats onto the floor in the front room; I could see them there. Some mattresses were also piled in the kitchen. He said he was moving a few of his things in right now, although he wasn't yet moving in himself.

I stepped back into my Apartment. I looked out the back window and saw that the woman had already boarded her car and was pulling out. Several other cars were also down there pulling out. It looked as if a couple of the cars belonged to people next door.

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