Dream of:06 January 1998 "Free Of Fear"
Some old photographs were stuck in the kind of clear plastic holders which would fit into a billfold. I had forgotten I even had these photos, and as I pulled some out, I saw faces of people from my past. Some photos seemed to have been made in Mexico. I saw the picture of one man who I thought might be Leo Alonzo. I knew I had recently been writing a book of dreams and when I had come across the name of "Leo Alonzo" in one of my old dreams, I hadn't been able to remember exactly who he had been. Perhaps now, by examining the photo, I would remember. When I looked more closely, however, I saw the picture wasn't one of a Mexican man at all, but of a young fellow from Portsmouth, a fellow who had traveled to Mexico with me.
I also saw a photo of Leah. Dressed in blue, Leah was walking down a quaint cobble-stoned street in Mexico. I now recalled how I had once traveled to Mexico and met Leah there. Another older woman dressed in blue was also in the photo. Like Leah, the second woman had blonde hair – it took me a moment to figure out which of the two was Leah.
Gradually I realized Leah was sitting right beside me on my right. We were both sitting at a table. A young girl brought in some tubes of paint and gave them to Leah and me. The girl said Leah could use a small amount of the paint every day and draw a picture of a very small flower. Leah listened to the girl, but instead of using a small amount, Leah began squirting out a large amount of the paint onto an open page of a notebook spread in front of her. I admonished Leah that she was using too much paint; but she just ignored me and continued squirting out more and more.
I likewise squirted some paint out on my open page of notebook paper. At first I only intended to use a small amount of paint, but I got carried away and soon I had also applied a large amount of paint to the paper. Soon the paint covered the whole paper and I didn't know what to do with it. I stuck my fingers into the paint and began tracing designs. I settled on the figure of a large leaf, tracing out the branches and veins of the leaf. What I enjoyed most was the feel of the paint; its texture was exquisitely pleasurable.
I squished and squeezed the paint in my hands until I had rolled it up into two balls. One ball was all blue and as large as my head. The second ball was small and brown. I was uncertain what to do with the balls of paint, but I loved their feel. I wondered if I would be able to store the paint in a container so I could use it later.
I was glad to see Leah again. It had been a long time since I had seen her, but I had been thinking of her lately because she had appeared so often in the book of dreams which I had just completed. I had been surprised to see how often I had dreamed about her.
The biggest surprise of writing the book, however, had been the number of dreams in which I had been in jail. As I had written the book, I had relived the painful time I had been imprisoned in Iran. But reliving the imprisonment had proven beneficial. Before writing the book I had retained a fear of going back to prison. By reliving prison through the book, I had freed myself of the fear.
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