Well, nothing I want you to know about.

Dream 260913

Traveling Magenta garment Border crossing.

When I woke up, I wanted the morning to be one of those landscapes where I am inspired and poetic. Or where touch is the first drink of the day. But it was more about utility, and at 8am, I had missed the light streaming in shards of orange and red that make the dust motes feel like galaxies.

So, I read. I prayed. And I meditated. For a moment I felt like Chris Pratt's character in the film Passengers (2016) before he wakes up Jennifer Lawrence. Just a lost soul wandering the void. Surrounded by people, but completely alone.

The dream:

Ng and I are immigrating. Not sure where. Feels like Germany. Or Canada.

Some place arboreal. Crossings are always at dark and call mind Steve McQueen's double-fence setup from the Great Escape.

GiF great escape chicken run goes here.

Every passenger gets checked. Belongings sorted through thoroughly.

Feels like a TSA/Passport line. Slow and patient.

Agents always find contraband in my things.

My big fear is losing two garments. A yellow dress-like thing and a small lacy crumpled burgundy garment.

I try to hide them, but agents find both times. Not seized, but inventoried.

First crossing, my things are stowed needly on a flat bed truck we have to climb onto for the ride to the next border.

There are many other people who are also dismayed and confused. Everyone is kind, but keeps to their own business.

I lose track of Ng, she ends up on a different shipmen to the second crossing.

I find her things and put them with mine.

When we reach the second crossing, she is relieved I have her things.

After getting through border crossing, it is only us. Everyone else's belonging are pilled haphazardly, as if abandoned.

There are mushrooms growing everyone. Large toadstools that look like furniture.

Ng and I both agree we should bundle up our belongings and walk from here.

MW wakes me and the dream beings to fade, while I become aware of the insistence of reality.

What on earth?

Strange one. Barriers and guards. Changing states? Places? Maybe it’s a Jacob’s Ladder and I’m about to experience change? Or fear it and the pieces of me that can come.

No violence. Stern faces, but no guns. No confinement. Just inspection.

Things opened sorted andninventoried.

No privacy. Or secrets.

Interesting that my two favored items are so precious. Irreplaceable. I’m worried they’ll be stolen. But in reality, no one cares.

No one takes them.

Less worried about losing parts of myself than I am that I’ll become know. On the record. I don’t want to be in the record.

I want to pass this life and leave no wounds.

Kind f*#%ed that one up.

Losing and finding Ng again…

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Her being relieved that I kept her things safe feels like a small picture of loyalty: when circumstances separate us, I still carry what matters to her.

After the final border, everyone else is gone. Their belongings are abandoned in piles. The landscape is strange and overgrown with enormous mushrooms, almost like we have entered another world.

And then Ng and I decide to stop depending on the machinery of the crossing. We gather our belongings and walk.

Maybe that is where the dream lands: I can pass through the inspections. I can tolerate having my baggage opened. I can even survive being separated from the people I love for a while.

But eventually I have to decide what is mine, pick it up, and carry it forward myself.

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💜💚🩵🩷