I had met a woman (probably in her late 20s) whom I had seen at different times over the years. I learned the woman had fallen in love with me, but I rejected her. Now she had fallen ill and was in her bed at home. I was in the house next door to her and I felt bad about her being sick. I wanted to go and see her.
I went over to the house, where I encountered two fellows who lived there with her. They both cherished her, but they were only friends. One fellow spoke Spanish to the other fellow right in front of me without knowing I also spoke Spanish. Actually they didn't know anything about me, although I thought they knew I had rejected the woman. I asked them if I could see the woman and they said I could.
I walked through the kitchen and back to the room where the woman was lying in bed. She sat up and looked surprised to see me. She looked in good shape. She somewhat resembled Catron (a Houston attorney). I exaggerated and told her I had heard she was dying. With me I thought I was carrying a copy of Miguel Cervantes' Don Quixote, but actually I had with me a book of my dreams which I had written. I thought I would sit down and read to her some of my dreams in which she had appeared. I thought that would cheer her up, because I thought she would see from my dreams that I did care about her, even though I wasn't in love with her. I sat down, picked out the earliest dream in which she had appeared, and I began reading.
As I continued reading I came to a dream in which the name of a certain county had appeared. The woman mentioned that for three years she used to trap animals in that county. I was disgusted to know she had trapped animals. I knew then that she wasn't the kind of woman whom I could really respect.
***
The woman and I were sitting in a rather large classroom when the subject of my dreams came up. The question was asked whether my reading my dreams to the woman had helped her. I talked a while, and finally said I thought the real question was whether I had genuinely been trying to help the woman, or whether I had just been reading the dreams for my own satisfaction.
The teacher in the class, a woman, joined in the discussion. It was clear she was against what I had been doing with the dreams. She quickly came to the conclusion that I had been reading the dreams for myself and not for the woman. Stunned, I sat and listened as the discussion continued. Finally I stood up and said I was positive I had genuinely been trying to help the woman. I knew I did derive some benefits for myself, but the main reason I had read the dreams was to help the woman. I knew that the woman was rather fragile, and that I might not have been very successful in helping her; but that had been my main intention.
Copyright 2009 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com
