Dream of:20 July 1996 "The Tear"
dreams may embody
the beneficient will of
god in story form
A set of wooden stairs rose to a door on the second floor of a large frame house. After I had mounted to the top of the stairs, two people met me at the door and allowed me to enter. I had come to the house knowing a play was going to take place on the second floor, a play which would encompass the entire floor.
Once inside, I strolled through the first room and into the second room, which only contained a bed sitting against the wall. Although I could hear people in the following room, I decided this room would be a good place from which to watch the play. Since I understood that the spectators could sit anywhere they wanted, and that the play would take place all around them, I settled down on the bed. It looked as if I were the only audience which had arrived. Of course it was Wednesday afternoon, and not many people attended plays on weekday afternoons.
Since no one else was around, I decided to sit in a meditative pose. I crossed my legs in front of me, placing one foot atop the other. With my legs in place, I debated which way I would hold my hands. I finally decided to place my hands in front of me with the tips of my thumbs touching each other in a typical Buddhist position. At first I interlaced my fingers together, thinking this was a more casual-looking way of holding my hands, but when the position did not feel quite right, thinking no one was watching me anyway, I placed one hand on top of the other in a more formal fashion. When I also leaned my back against the wall, I noticed that sitting in this fashion forced out my stomach and made me appear fat. I straightened up my back until my back was not touching the wall and until my stomach looked flat.
I closed my eyes and almost immediately slipped into a meditative state. I could feel a perceptible variance in my mind as I became clear and focused. I was able to concentrate without the pain which concentration sometimes brought.
I soon found myself concentrating on one of my dreams. I had been thinking about the dream earlier, and now thoughts of the dream returned to me again. Although I knew that I should have written the dream when I had it, I had been too tired, and I had not done so. Now I was trying to remember the details of the dream and to fix them in my memory so I would be able to write the dream later.
In my dream, what I was supposed to be doing with my life had been revealed to me: studying mathematics. Even at this belated date in life, I needed to return to college and study mathematics. In the dream, the idea of throwing myself completely into the study of mathematics had engulfed me with a beautiful intensity. As part of the feeling, I had received a vision of a series of triangles ascending step-like into a cloudy blue sky. As I had concentrated on the triangles, a word had come to me: "Griff." It had been revealed to me that "Griff" was an important concept which was essential to comprehend if I wanted to understand triangles.
I could not remember any more of the dream. What now intrigued me most was the word "Griff." I mulled the word over, trying to comprehend its meaning. I had the feeling that "Griff" was a concept which had something to do with one side of a triangle. Although the word "Griff" made no sense to me, the word had indeed appeared in my dream. I thought, therefore, that I might need to analyze the meaning of the word. I began by trying to think of other words with similar sounds. At first the word "grip" came to mind, but that did not seem to fit. Then suddenly, it came to me: "Donna Griffiths!" "Griff" might be referring to Donna Griffiths, a woman with whom I had been exchanging dreams on the Internet. I was unsure whether Donna's last name actually contained two "fs," but I thought it did. The more I ruminated, the surer I became that "Griff" must refer to Donna.
I still felt that the concept of a triangle was involved in this riddle, but I failed to see the connection between Donna and triangles. I knew that I had never met Donna in person, and that I had only communicated with her over the Internet. Since she and I belonged to a small group of people who had been exchanging dreams with each other on the Internet, I thought perhaps the sides of the triangle stood for the number of members in our dream group. I recalled that four of us were in the group. I reflected, however, that a triangle only had three sides. When I thought one of the other members of the group named John Jacobs, whom I referred to as "JJ," the idea of a triangle with him, Donna and me seemed to make sense. The triangle of us three especially made sense when I thought about studying mathematics, because I thought JJ would have had extensive experience with mathematics.
Since I knew that JJ had studied engineering at MIT, I thought he clearly would have far more knowledge of mathematics than I. He might even be skeptical of the idea of my now beginning to study mathematics. He, however, did not fully comprehend the depth of my abilities in this area. Although it was true that I had not devoted time to studying mathematics as JJ had, I did have the inherent ability to do so. I thought that JJ would understand this, and that he would even encourage me. I also thought JJ would understand my desire because of a closeness between him and me which allowed us to understand each other well. There was a depth in our unusual relationship which allowed me to respect and even admire JJ.
Still in my meditative state, I gradually became aware that the play had begun. Although my eyes were completely closed, I could now clearly hear the dialogue taking place. Nothing was happening in the room to my left, the first room which I had entered and where the stair was located, but from the room to my right, which seemed to be the kitchen, I could hear people talking.
As the play progressed, the actors would sometimes enter my room, continue talking, and then return to the other room. Having the audience sit right in the middle of the action seemed to me like a wonderful way to perform a play. At the moment, I seemed to be the only spectator in the room, perhaps in the entire house. I thought the actors would probably not mind the way I was sitting with my eyes closed in a meditative state. They might even find, that seeing someone in a meditative pose and listening to their play, was refreshing. The actors might also realize how well I was able to concentrate in this position, and how involved I was becoming in the play. It almost seemed as if I were somehow a part of the play.
I knew that the play had been written by a woman, and that all the action took place in the upstairs of a house. As the play continued, I also realized something was quite sad about it. Concentrating on the sadness in the play, I perceived a tear had formed in my right eye and was slowly rolling down my right cheek. I hoped the actors would not see the tear and become distracted by it. If the actors did note the tear, I hoped they would simply take the tear as a symbol of something. I seemed to recall I had heard stories about Buddha and how he would sometimes communicate to people with signs instead of words. I even seemed to recall a story in which Buddha had communicated to someone with a single tear on his cheek, just like mine. I myself was unsure what the tear meant, but I felt as if it meant something.
By now the play's action had shifted into my room, all around me. The action was so strong that even though my eyes were closed, I could visualize the actors. I saw one blond-haired boy (13-14 years old) standing in front of me and looking at me. I knew what he was going to do next, even before he did. He moved closer and closer to me, finally reached out, and lightly, but maliciously, slapped me on my right cheek. I instantly opened my eyes in a start, snapping out of my meditation. The boy recoiled, immediately realizing he had done something wrong.
Irate and nervous, I looked to my left and was surprised to see several people sitting there. I angrily jumped to my feet, then hesitated for a moment about whether I should say anything. Finally directing myself to a woman sitting nearby who was apparently the mother of the boy, I shrieked, "Your son just accosted me!"
All the people looked chagrined and abashed by what had happened. One fellow also had tears streaming out of both of his eyes. His tears made me realize that I had not been the only person shedding tears. I had the feeling, however, that the fellow was crying not because of the play, but because he felt bad that I had been awakened. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I sat back down. I wondered if I should have jumped up like that – like a hysterical woman. I knew I sometimes reacted too stridently in tense situations, but I thought under the circumstances, my outburst had been appropriate. Besides, my reaction had been somewhat subdued, probably tempered by the peacefulness engendered by meditation. Still, I felt shaky, as if I had gone too far by screaming, and I tried to smile at several people to show that I was now calm and again under control.
Continuing to glance around the room, I noticed something else: on my right lay a strong, husky man man (probably in his mid 30s) stretched out on the bed. Immediately perceiving him to be the amiable sort, I struck up a conversation. It seemed there was a break in the action of the play, so we were able to talk. I began by talking about the play and the author, who I thought was Willa Cather. I told the man, "I read one of her books once."
I told him I could not remember the name of the book, but I added, "I remember it was very convoluted."
I recalled that all the action in the novel had taken place in a small restaurant/store, and that the story had been extremely complex. Actually the book contained many stories rolled into one. As we talked, I noticed that a book by the author was lying on the bed and I picked it up. I opened the book and on the first two pages saw a list of books which the author had written. The title of each book had a small picture beside it. I began looking through the titles, trying to find the title of the book which I had read.
Meanwhile the man continued to talk. At first I thought I was going to like him, but then he said something which made me realize how shallow he actually was, something about having "read the Lord." I intuitively knew he was talking about the Bible. He was expressing a concept which I had heard before, that the Bible was the physical embodiment of God, that the Bible was actually part of God. For me the concept was hollow, which indicated that the man had a deluded image of God. I could see that he and I were going to have little in common.
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