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| A photoshop reconstruction of my dream image |
On the day before Christmas I had this dream.
I was driving up a steep, overgrown jeep trail in my
four-wheel drive truck. To my right, I saw a pack of beautifully proportioned,
playful coyotes with magnificent multicolored hair, like that of calico cats.
Then to the left I saw another pack of coyotes, deformed and misshapen, sullen,
snarly, and gnashing their teeth.
Near the top of the mountain, I suddenly and impulsively
pulled off the road next to an unkempt, falling-down house just as an ancient,
beat-up pickup truck came charging up behind me out of nowhere, slewing to an
abrupt and menacingly stop inches from my rear bumper. Two disheveled looking,
indigenous men piled out of the truck, falling to the ground, writhing and
flopping around, unable to stand.
They were cordial to me but disturbing to look at. I
could not help but observe that they had no pants on, exposing their bare asses
and legs which appeared fused together and tapered like a fish’s body. Their
faces were deformed and the one I could see most clearly had a large hole in
his head (see the image I drew from memory above).
The indigenous men said nothing more, just continued to
flop and writhe. It was exquisitely embarrassing
to watch. I felt ashamed but, not knowing what to do, I got back in my truck
and drove on. At the top of the mountain, I came across a picture-book village,
looking like a set from a movie or a real life version of a theme park like
Disney Land where everything works and problems do not exist.
Although it was moving too slowly to be perceived with
the naked eye, I clearly sensed that every part of the village was in rhythmic,
coordinated motion, meshing together perfectly like the sections of a
world-class symphony or the many assorted gears in a 21-jewel fine watch.
Not only that, transcending human rationality, I could
see the whole village was powered by a single source. A crude sense of what I
mean is the old water powered factories, like the old Amoskeag Mills here in New
Hampshire where a myriad of different machines and processes, driven by an
endless number of belts and pulleys, were all powered by a single, super-human
source, the Merrimack River.
The village I had entered was like that, but at the same
time, infinitely more. I had an irresistable, overwhelming desire to reach out and manipulative the parts to see how they
worked. But, before I could act, a powerful inner voice like a god spoke out to
me: Thou shalt not touch.
The voice did not tell me why but at an unconscious
level I knew. Without doubt, this village scene represented our Earth, the complex,
self-regulating, living entity that James Lovelace called Gaia. [1]
I listened to the voice and obeyed. Like a kid in a fine
crystal glass store, I put my hands in my pockets and did not try to touch a
thing, just staring in wonder. And so the dream ended.
I interpret my dream as a warning against my own hubris
as well as that of the whole modern human world: While the hidden, immanent life force that vitalizes our world can be
infinitely powerful, it can, at the very same time, be phenomenally fragile and
easily derailed.
I'm still working on the significance of the coyotes in my dream. However, I have had reoccurring dreams about fish and indigenous people. See below for what I have written about these other dreams:
For Kafka fish must have been the very flesh of forgetting...: Fish for Kafka must have been the very flesh of forgetting: their lives are forgotten in a radical manner;”
Requiem for a fish...or is it for us all? The message resonates with me in terms of interpreting my dream: "Yes, it may be a requiem for many indigenous peoples and the life forms associated with them, but–no matter how great our grief– we can’t drown in our sadness.”
XXX
[1]
I could clearly sense – and almost see –
that our village was powered by a single vital force, primal energy like what
the Chinese call “Qi.” The danger was
that if I intervened I might extinguish that life force causing the village to
fall silent. And the danger for human kind is that if they keep intervening in
Nature, they will extinguish the vital life force that causes the winds to blow
and the currents in the oceans to flow. And that will be the end of everything.
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