I'm living in Southern California, walking to a Mexican restaurant a few blocks away, but the streets are overly-crowded with pedestrians and there is no direct street or walkway that will get me where I want to go. Fed up with the headaches of traffic, I leap in the air and fly up and away from the hassle, making a direct course for my destination. However, just before I'm out of earshot, my ears pick up an insult casually thrown at me by one of the people below, so I quickly return only to spit out some quip in retort, causing the rest of the crowd to point and laugh at the perpetrator, and then I zip away, back on path.
Eventually I run into my manager from my job, who asks me to be careful about where I am when I shoot into the air, because not many people in the world can do it yet and she doesn't want me to get kidnapped by the government to be studied and tested. I ask if it would be better if I found an obscure part of the neighborhood, or maybe a wooded area, that I could use to take off. She is a little confused, and makes it clear that she thinks I mean that I need a runway. After I awkwardly tell her that really I just need a place where I can jump straight up without any obstruction, she changes the subject by bringing up a book I've been reading in dreamland. I don't recall the title of the book, but I do remember that the next installment in its series was a novelization of "Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit" -- and no, the book I'd just finished was NOT the first "Sister Act."
Sometime later, I end up back at home, which reminds me of the condo we moved to in real life when I was 16-years-old, but it's not the actual place because I know I'm still in So Cal. My dad comes home from a new job he's just acquired at a Nike outlet store in a strip mall so far away that it requires him to live in a hotel during the weekdays. He looks tired and ready to collapse, and as I ask him about his employment, he tells me that he's basically a sales manager AND analyst, and that he has to take frequent breaks from his shift in order to go back to his hotel room and lie down for a bit. When I ask if he enjoys his job, he is too tired to respond, but my mother is in the room and I catch a glance from her that tells me, "He doesn't think he enjoys it, but it's good for him."
Another hazy passage of time occurs, and I next find myself at home again, but this time home is a large, lobby-like area with marble floor and walls, and granite desks lining the circumference. Again, my dad comes home, but this time my dad looks nothing like my real-life father, for in THIS instance of my dream, Dad is played by Dennis Haysbert, known for his role as President Palmer on 24. As soon as he walks in I realize that we are living in a bank that he has just acquired in a business transaction. The security guard goes outside to do a sweep of the premises, and "Dad" begins to systematically fire all the tellers, who have begun swarming him and pestering him with issues that make him realize that he doesn't NEED
them there. After a moment he steps outside to find the security guard just standing around, and he tells him that his sweep might be more effective if he actually walked around the building. For some reason this whole experience evokes from me emotions of pride for my "Dad," and I put my arm around him and tell him how I feel. He smiles, and we walk back inside.
I then realize that I am actually watching an episode of 24 on a TV that's been specially set up for me, but that I'm still in the lobby of the bank. Tears are streaming down my face and I'm becoming quite emotional as I begin explaining to those around me that President Palmer is such a beautiful Messianic figure, as if I just had the most wonderful spiritual affirmation that this was so.
I get up, head down a hallway, and soon find myself in a bedroom that I assume to be my own, though it's not very comfortable -- there is no carpet, just a grayish blue floor and similarly-colored brick walls with a
small window and no decor. There are two beds against either side of the room, and I recognize that the one on the left belongs to my brother Cabeza, though I can't, for the life of me, understand why Joe, a guy in my real-life ward at church who looks an awful lot like Michael Hitchcock, is sitting on it, packing his stuff from what appears to be a multiple-night stay. I inquire as to his doings, and he explains that he was spending a few nights there while Cabeza and I were absent.
Then I wake up.
Analysis (only of the elements I understand):
-Flying dream again! The difference between these latest flying dreams and ones of old, though, are that in the past I begin flying as a realization that I'm dreaming, consciously taking advantage of the absence of boundaries in dream state -- as if I'm in the Matrix. In this and my other recent dreams, I'm not aware that I'm asleep.
-My dad has battled health issues for quite some time and was forced into early retirement. I don't consciously dwell on it a whole lot anymore, but the whole experience is definitely something that has made me who I am today, and although it probably does influence how I think of my dad, I can't say that it makes me think negatively of him, which perhaps explains my viewing him as an authority figure (albeit a dramatized one) and my expression of confidence in him.
-A few weeks ago I finished watching 24 Season 2 for the first time. As a side note, I must say that anyone who has told me that they were "hooked" on 24 from their first time sitting down to watch Season 1 has lost serious credibility with me. There have been enjoyable moments in each of the first two seasons so far, but there has also been a lot of awful writing and acting, enough that I find the show to be mediocre so far, at best -- definitely nowhere near "helplessly engaging". I am going to watch seasons 3 and 4 eventually, though, as I've been told they are the best two seasons. I'd much rather watch Lost.
-My emotional response to 24 in this dream is, to me, representative of my natural tendency to read into texts of any sort and take away something profound, even if it's unintentional. Admittedly, crying over the spiritual beauty of a melodramatic prime time TV show is over the top, but I think the symbolism stands.
-The Mexican restaurant mentioned at the beginning of the dream is probably a result of my endless search for decent Mexican food in the DC Metro area. It's really hard to find.
Conclusion:
-Whatever is going on in life that's making me fly, it's still happening. I love my dad despite his trials and afflictions. I am an active viewer of art, even when art is pop culture or commercialism.
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