The following is an actual dream included in my dream journal, and does not describe actual facts
Dream of:18 April 2002 "Self-Help"
A catholic bishop was visiting Carolina and me in our home. He was probably in his 60s and dressed in full ecclesiastical garb, including a deep-yellow miter. We were going to go to church with him. When we left, he grabbed a quart-sized bottle of wine from our cabinet and said something about this being a special day when members of the church were supposed to bring some wine.
We all boarded our car; the bishop was driving, Carolina was sitting in the front passenger seat, and I was seated in the back. I was worried about the bishops driving he didn't seem to be doing a good job. As we rode along, Carolina scooted over toward the middle. When the bishop looked askance at her, as if to ask what she was doing, she explained that the sun had been shining too strongly through her window. The bishop seemed satisfied; he seemed to like Carolina close to him and he even pulled her closer a little too close for my taste. Then the bishop turned to Carolina and gave her a peck of a kiss on the lips. I wasn't happy with what he was doing, but his action seemed harmless.
When we reached the church, we all got out and walked inside. Dozens of other bishops were present, all carrying bottles of wine. I also was carrying a bottle; only a few of the other lay members were carrying wine. I immediately noticed the greedy looks directed at my bottle.
When Carolina and I sat down on the floor near the front, many people gathered around us. My bottle was open by now and a woman took a drink. When we moved to another spot, another woman took a big drink from my bottle. People seemed to be all around us with cups just waiting for the drinking to begin; obviously the wine wouldn't last long among these thirsty minions. I would probably just distribute the wine until none was left.
Finally the festivities began. We walked outside into a picnic area where a black-haired man (about 30 years old) was operating a barbecue grill. On his arm were tattooed the words "Self-help". He didn't appear to be drinking like the rest. I had the feeling he had once had a drinking problem and the tattoo was from some group he had joined to help him with his problem. I thought about myself: I didn't consider myself to have a drinking problem; I had always been able to manage my drinking without going overboard, and I certainly wouldn't join some group especially at my age to help with a problem.
I left the picnic area and walked back to the car. I fetched a big heavy pot which was in the car and headed back to the picnic area (I thought we would be needing the pot later to cook in). I had to be careful crossing some streets. The pot was heavier than it used to be when I had been younger; but I was still strong.
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