Wednesday night I had a terrible and beautiful dream. People were dying in complex and nightmarish ways, but one of them took his glider wings and flew, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so.
His flight was fast and desperate, waiting for the changes to his body that would end his life as he knew it. And in my dream, I shared his eyes. So while most of the dream was disturbing and upsetting…
The last minutes were a wonderland of beauty. Behind his eyes, I was soaring and diving over the ocean. I could see that world with such clarity, the rocks and soft green at the coast, the undulation of colors of the water, the towering, breathtaking cloud formations all around me in the deep blue sky. It was an alien landscape and the most astonishing natural wonder I can recall bearing witness to. I wasn’t the rainbow guy, but I could have been. I was busy flying.
Near the moment I awoke, the man with glider wings began to lose track of the horizon. At first the coast and the clouds made sense — swoop up on an air current, soar high above the water and stare intensely at the clouds, trying to memorize them, tip forward and let trajectory carry us pointed down, faster and faster, pulling up just as we neared the surface of the sea. But with each increasing level of his urgency, I lost the horizon as well and all was a churning stew of sprawling blue clouds and rushing air and crisp salty sea.
And then… I woke up.
I don’t want to trivialize this dream, but I can’t help but draw a parallel or three between it and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (and I can’t neglect to include the beautiful blue clouds Marty and I commented on in Austin the previous evening). I haven’t read this story, but Marty and I had just watched the Swedish film based precisely on Stieg Larsson’s novel. It made me feel the same way. It had the same stark contrast of ugliness and healing — grisly in many ways, truly heart-touching in others. A lifelike balance of the very stuff life is made of.
There’s something about the right story at the right time that feels essential to my development as a person. Like my experiences in the sweat lodge, it feels as if it taps into some unconscious greater understanding of the nature of the universe and of ourselves, who we are, what we’re for. I don’t know yet what that is exactly.
Unless the experience itself is what we’re for.
Maybe it’s as simple as that.
Megan Elizabeth Morris (aka MEM, Megan the M.) is a bonafide professional catalyst and adventurer. She's the Ideaschema instigator, orchestrator and autodidact, and you can find out more about her by clicking here.Got an idea? Something we haven't thought of? Whatever you're thinking, we want to hear it. Please feel free to leave comments or email us by clicking here.
