I woke just after 5 this morning but I didn’t feel like getting up. I am congested again, hacking cough. I think I need more drugs. I’ve also been dealing with a lot of swelling in my legs and ankles these past couple of days. Yesterday I used my egg timer to remind me to take regular breaks from my desk. I think I will buy some compression socks to improve my circulation.
So anyway, I woke early but refused to get up so I went back to bed and wrote, starred, directed, and watched one of my weird lucid dreams. It was a church dream … maybe because I watched a funeral on Once Upon a Time last night, maybe because I was in a church a few weekends ago being in a wedding, I dunno, but the reverend was very much in my subconscious and making his opinions known … with one minor detail omitted … the role of my minister was played by none other than the late great Philip Seymour Hoffman!
The spectator me in the dream, the one who sits by the sidelines and eats popcorn while watching the dream unfold, was very excited to see the actor up close and personal, but was also puzzled at how this could happen, since he is dead. The director me in the dream was also a bit puzzled by that but being all business and knowing that time is money just shrugged it off and rolled film. ACTION! The star me in the dream was of course oblivious to the fact that this was anyone other than the minister at the Anglican church where I taught Sunday school as a teenager. While the writer me in the dream immediately recognized his talent and began rewrites in order to give him a larger role.
Does anyone else dream like this? Aware and unaware that you are dreaming all at the same time? Very much in control of what happens and yet completely not in control of what happens simultaneously? Split into multiple people? I dream more like this than any other kind of dream. It is a rare thing for me not to be aware that I’m dreaming on some level, to not be controlling the way it unfolds. Even when I dream things that are sad or scary and I wake up in tears or afraid, even then it is because I have done it to myself. I have written something very sad or scary.
I wish I had gotten up and come straight to the keyboard when I first woke up after the dream, while it was fresh in my mind. But instead I laid in bed with my hacking cough and texted with my sister and checked email and Facebook and played games on my phone. So, I don’t really have many dream details …
We were at my parents house … there was some sort of dilemma that required the minister … the role of the minister was played by one of the best actors of my time … the minister was strict and overbearing and insistent about something … but I was stubborn and calling him out on it … Mom just wanted to keep the peace … and she was upset … ready to give in to the frigging minister to just be done with it all … but I was standing up for what I thought was right …
So it was a conflict dream of some sort, about something, and while it was happening it seemed quite fascinating, but in the light of day hours later all that remains is me and Philip Seymour Hoffman squaring off, toe to toe.
In other news my mother has phoned my sisters and from all accounts seems to be having a blast out west. It is funny that I just saw her on Sunday, spoke to her Monday, and sometimes we go for a few weeks without calling, but every day since she left I have reached for my phone to call her for some reason or another only to realize I can’t. Funny how that works. I had to figure out the recipe for butterscotch pie filling all by myself. It isn’t as good as hers was at Easter.