Dream of: 17 October 1988 "Cave Man"

I was standing up in what appeared to be a canoe and was floating along in water, although all around me it looked as if I were in a street. In my hand I was holding a long, sharp spear, which I also used to help guide me by sticking it into the water and to the bottom of the stream. I was dressed in primitive clothes, such as a caveman might wear. In fact I had been living alone somewhere, perhaps in a jungle, for quite a while, and I was just now returning to so-called civilized life.

Fortuitously a religious group, which included some people I used to know, was going to have some kind of gathering today. The group seemed somewhat like Hari Krishnas and somewhat like Zen Buddhists. I wasn't part of them, and in fact I didn't care much for them. However I had been considering going to their gathering just to see what it was like. In fact, other canoes were moving along the stream in a procession both in front of and behind me, and they were headed for the gathering. I also noticed along the side of the stream tall columns with statues of muscular men on top of them. The men were members of the religious group. In fact, the figures at the top of the columns might have even actually been real men, they looked so real.

The street I was going down reminded me both of West Salem and of Portsmouth. Finally I arrived at a small store where the gathering was taking place. I pulled up my canoe in front, amidst a number of people. Some of them obviously recognized me, but no one seemed particularly pleased to see me here. I quickly parked my canoe and immediately decided not to stay. I knew my father's house was just about a block down the street and I could go there.

As I walked toward my father's house, I realized that problematically I hadn't seen him for a while and I wasn't getting along very well with him. Showing up now dressed like a cave man probably wouldn't be a very good idea. But since I didn't have the key to the house and I didn't know how to get in without confronting him, I saw no other choice.

When I finally reached the large, white, frame, two-story house, I was pleasantly surprised to find the door on the porch open. I slipped inside and up the stairs without being seen, although I was sure my father was in one of the downstairs rooms. I reached an upstairs bedroom and on a bed found a clean pair of beige corduroy pants of mine. They felt good as I held them in my hands and got ready to put them on.

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