Dream of: 02 June 1993 "Church-Song"
avoid using religion as a subterfuge
I was in the kitchen-living room area of the House in Patriot, Ohio (the home of my maternal grandparents when I was a child). The room had been converted into a classroom filled with student's desks and chairs, instead of furniture. About 30 students, including myself, were sitting at our little desks, while a teacher stood in front of the room.
I felt bonded to the other students and I hoped we could learn to know each other so well that we could live together as a family. Wanting to do something to bring us closer, I raised my hand and asked the teacher if we could join in a song. When he gave his permission, we all began singing.
At first we simply sat in our seats while we sang. But I wanted us to stand up and hold hands during the song. So we all rose to our feet, made space, and formed a line, each of us holding our neighbors' hands. As the music began again, I immediately recognized the song, although I didn't think anyone else did.
I was holding the hand of a comely black-haired girl (about 16 years old). Although I was quite attracted to her, she seemed a bit afraid of me. As I began singing, I thought perhaps the song would reassure her, especially since it was a religious one. Hopefully her fear of me would ease. I remembered I had sung this particular song many times when I had attended church in my youth. I sang out, "He walks through the garden alone, when the dew is still on the roses, and the voice he hears, as he lingers there, the son of God discloses."
By the time I polished off singing, I had led the girl to a sofa and sat down next to her. As I winningly intoned the word "God," I was especially trying to let her know that I was religiously inclined. When I finished singing, I moved my right hand to touch the girl's face. But she must have inferred I was trying to touch her breast, because she recoiled and warned, "Don't touch that." I moved back from her.
Dream Commentary of August 24, 2015
The metaphor of the church for the Dream Journal seems to be the best metaphor which I can divine for the Dream Journal. Although I had this dream over 22 years ago, the room full of 30 students holding hands and singing a religious song seems to mirror a feeling which I feel emerging for certain people on the Dream Journal.
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