Dream of: 17 May 1997 "Lumber"

I had gone to large red-brick building in the west end of Dallas, the area where all the old buildings had been converted to stores and night places mainly for tourists. I had gone to a nice office in the brick building to see my former law professor, McSwain. McSwain had contacted me to come and see him; he had something to tell me.

When I walked into his office, McSwain wasn't alone; another law school professor was with him. With the other professor looking on, McSwain wasted no time in telling me why he had summoned me. He explained that I had been re-admitted to law school for another year. I took this as an unexpected boon. I hadn't been thinking of returning to law school; but now that the opportunity presented itself, I didn't hesitate to accept.

I expressed my thanks, and as I prepared to leave, McSwain mentioned that there was one thing I should do. He gave the name of another Baylor law student who lived near the ocean on the east coast. McSwain told me that this fellow had recently had a baby, and that I shouldn't forget about him. I didn't know this particular law student, but I had an idea of what McSwain meant. McSwain was of the opinion that Baylor graduates should stay in touch with each other, form a community even after law school, binding each to each. I had never felt like maintaining any ties with my former law school alumni, but if this was what McSwain wanted, since he was being so kind and helpful to me, I would write the fellow law student a letter when I returned home.

***

I was home, writing the letter to the law student. As I composed, I noticed that words seemed to be coming to me automatically, words that I seldom, if ever, used. It was strange, because I didn't even understand why I was using the words. I liked my state of mind, however – the way the words would just appear to me and I would write them down.

When I had finished with my letter, I picked up another letter which I had received from my friend, Donna Griffiths. As I read Donna's letter, I realized her letter was in response to the letter which I had just written. I also realized the letter which I had been writing hadn't been a letter at all, but a dream, a dream which I apparently had written down and already sent to Donna. Somehow she had already received and read the dream, and her letter to me contained some comments about the dream which I had written.

Donna had caught the fact that words had been spontaneously appearing to me, and that I hadn't really understood the words or how I had been using them. She seized upon one word in particular which I had used, the word "lumber." Donna wrote, "Here's how the lumber got into your dream. You too lumber along."

I didn't remember having ever used the word "lumber" before, but I thought it meant "to move slowly." I understood immediately how Donna had reached her interpretation of my use of the word. I knew that Donna and I were working on something together, and that I had been dallying too much on our project. She was simply telling me I was moving too slowly. I had to agree: she was correct.

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