 1 May 2008 @ 23:43, by Trent Crace
The plot of these dreams was that there was two elements that could not be one. It was inside the reality of these dreams that impossibility, a seemingly wholly intellectual notion, became a feeling...
They tell me I was diagnosed with Asthma around the age of three. I say “they tell me” because I don’t remember. In fact, I don’t remember much about any asthmatic symptoms nor any asthma attacks when I was a child. Although there is a very real possibility that I was a victim of Munchausen by Proxy, it’s far more likely that I may have had mild symptoms of asthma that were exaggerated by my mother. In any case, an aura of sickness and death surrounded me at a very young age. Mortality was something that I contemplated early in my life because along with the asthma I was also regularly ill with respiratory infections and once or twice, pneumonia. This air of death and sickness caused me to see everything, i.e. other people, my environment, my body, “myself,” as being very different than from where I was looking. I saw things as if they were a million miles away. I could see “me,” or my personality so to speak, as some cold distant object. It was a unique type of aloofness, not exactly social in nature because I always had close friends, but psychological or spiritual. Although it bears stating that being ill did force me to be absent quite a bit from school and other social activities. I remember many days spent at home, either with her or when she couldn’t get the time off of work, my grandmother. I felt so out-of-the-flow on these days, like I was outside of life.
Not being rooted in my body or in this world to any significant degree, I became rooted in my mother and my relationship with her. It’s clear that this is what she wanted as well, promoting my illness and dependency as she did. She had these wonderful intentions backed by an overwhelming selfishness and a high-degree of stupidity. In other words, she was highly destructive. There is nothing like a sense of righteousness to justify sin.
Although I’m not so sure of how asthmatic I really was, I was with fever quite a bit in my early days. Sometimes, along with the fever, I was visited by delirium. It wasn’t very strong; it wasn’t as if I couldn’t recognize my surroundings or anything. Yet, I can remember playing video games and feeling as if I was “inside” the game. That was quite frightening and confusing. By far the most terrifying and prominent facet of the delirium was the dreams. Most of them were confounding and highly disturbing but there was a certain type of dream, not necessarily recurring because it took different forms, that absolutely put “the fear of God” in me (to use a Midwestern colloquialism).
I would awaken, sweat-drenched and alone, overtaken by abject terror. The impressions of the dreams were so strong that long after I awoke, it would be as if I were still dreaming. The perceptions and sentiments of the dreams would stay with me. At the time, the meaning of the dream seemed utterly enigmatic. I had no idea what it meant and at such an age, I wasn’t even aware that dreams could have messages or meaning. I simply thought they were things that just happened. The terror of these dreams was infinitely compounded by the fact that I had no idea how to communicate about them. Perhaps I didn’t want to talk about them, or perhaps I intuitively knew that no one else would understand them, not the least of which my mother.
The dreams were not concrete; they consisted of colors, vague shapes, and were for the most part, emotional in nature. I remember there were a few different colors, but mostly purple. I remember at one point thinking there was something that appeared to be a purple train, but it was most definitely not the clear-cut image of a train. This may have just been my mind, after the dream and even within it, trying to make sense out of something that was very, very abstract.
The plot of these dreams was that there was two elements that could not be one. It was inside the reality of these dreams that impossibility, a seemingly wholly intellectual notion, became a feeling. It was truly the feeling of impossibility. I was utterly horrified by it. It was a sucking feeling, cold like a rail of steel. Later, I could feel remnants of it when I would contemplate things I thought were impossible. For instance, I remember looking at a riding lawnmower in my garage and thinking how it was impossible to drive it through the window of the backdoor. This wasn’t just a thought; it had a terrifying feeling attached to it. There are still moments when I imagine something impossible and I feel tinges of this feeling.
I’ve contemplated these dreams quite a bit over the years. The only meaning at which I’ve arrived is that the notion of two represented my beingness and the beingness of my mother. They could not be one after the fact, or after manifestation. This would only create a group-mind, which is not true unity, only attachment. Perhaps the dreams represented the impossibility of love arising within the world. It seems likely to me that love can only be arrived at by going up, not down. It can only be achieved by realizing the Individuality of Source.
I would really love to hear anyone’s opinions on these dreams. I believe that they, to a large degree, represent something that is very significant for me in this lifetime. Although I recanted an interpretation above, it does not seem wholly satisfactory to me. Maybe this is because I have yet to experience Absolute Love…I have to say that despite the terror that I still remember, I would still totally love to have just one more of these dreams.
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