Wednesday, July 25, 2012

NightMare

It woke me up this morning. There is nothing quite as disturbing as trying to shake the specters of a nightmare while at the same time trying to figure out where you are. This was true today when I woke trying to figure out what was real, what was a dream and where the hell I was. Turns out that I am still in Wilmington, NC. Of course that was the last thought that I came to when I fully awoke. It is confusing even when I realize it is not my own bed but a hotel room I am waking too. Living a large part of my like in Hotel rooms, the process becomes a regular event. The homogenous nature hotel rooms does not help me place it in a geographic location while in a groggy state of awareness. I have joked with my kids that when it is time to "put me away" they should find a home for the aged that looks like a Hilton hotel room. As they lock me away they will simply say, "Mr. Johnson, when they are ready for your sound check, I'll call you." In my addled mind it will be very familiar and I will write blogs forgetting that there is no show to do that night.
The nightmare is a familiar one as well. It comes back to me over and over again. The settings and the surroundings change but the panic remains constant. Basically it is this: I am somewhere I do not recognize, and for some reason I put down the suitcase that contains one of my wooden partners. I am distracted for a moment or in my dream perhaps it could be hours, but when I return the suitcase is not there. A panic ensues and there is no one that realized the depth of my concern or the location of the solution.
Last night I was on some island. A softball game was taking place and after retiring the batting order I am enlisted to be next at bat. I protest that it has been too long since I tried to hit a ball with a bat, but it as unconscious drama dictates, I am the teams only hope of winning. The pitcher can not get a ball even near the plate and the game is delayed while they try to find a tee to hold the ball so the game can proceed. Time comes for the water taxi to take us back to the mainland and the spot where I left my case is deserted. I accuse several people of taking it... by accident and or malice. I even get "into it" with an old lady who swears that a case which looks exactly like mine is hers. It is loaded onto a cart and covered with a grandmother shawl. It is an anvil type case and I remind her that an elderly lady would not have a case like that to travel. She refuses to open it up to prove that it didn't contain a puppet. It seems to me an easy solution to the misunderstanding, but she is absolutely sure I am wrong and offended by my insistence. I woke with mixed emotions, disgust at the old grandmother, panic on the location of the case and bewildered on where to start looking in this unfamiliar yet totally recognizable hotel room.
Of course the room is small enough the moment my eyes clear to see the actual case clearly, so the major panic is calmed. The old lady vanishes but I continue to try for a few minutes to understand where I am and why I am there.
One might think that in a lucid moment of the dream I would remember this is a recurring theme and just go with the fantasy. That never happens. I have had lucid moments when I know that I am dreaming and go with the flow, but it never happens when I am looking for that case. To my subconscious credit there is always someone in the dream plot who will say to me in affect, "You'll find it. Don't be upset... everything is fine." This means to me on some level I know that I am dreaming, but the voice is not strong enough to hold weight in that nightmare.
It does prove the power of the imagination when, even in a completely illogical situation, the belief that it is total reality continues to be so intense.
There is a lot to do today and I do not feel as rested as I could be. However, as I go through the day, worry about the location of the personified tools of my trade will not be an issue.... I hope.
As you were,
Jay

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