In a Dream

I’m driving in what is supposed to be southern California to meet up with a long-time but non-existent friend. We’re meeting in a national park on the ocean. This park is a shallow water pool (between two and three feet deep) that stretches for miles along the coast and extends up to 100 meters out from the land. As we’re discussing the pros and cons of this location over the other two choices he makes a point to say that he’s bummed he can’t see mountains nearby. He’s heard how beautiful the range is in this area, and he’s always wanted to live close enough to pick up snowboarding. Just as he finishes his statement some clouds to the east clear and expose massive snow capped peaks which make the Rockies look like foothills of the appalachians.

Friend is amazed and baffled at the sudden appearance of these large mountains then is immediately disheartened because of their distance. I let him know that they’re only about a two or two and half hour drive away, and we decide we should check them out sometime soon. Before we can return to previous conversation and enjoy the pleasantly warm waters of the pool, dense, ominous clouds begin to surround the immediate area and force us to find our way back to the parking lot cave. Walking along the submerged rocky terrain I have to keep a vigilant eye on the path ahead in order to avoid possible injury. Peering down at the rocks I notice a pattern on them which extends into the land. The pattern is that of turtle shells having been fused together. This makes me think of Brahma and the phrase “turtles all the way down.”

Making our way into the cave another friend joins us with a large sticker roll of thc candies for the road trip ahead. After explaining the extreme potency of just one he engulfs 8 of them saying he’s ready to lose his mind. I take two for myself and notice that they likely contain gelatin in them after I open the package. I eat them regardless, understanding I’ll have to pay a heavy karmic price for violating my personal oath of nonviolence towards animals. Entering the cave is like walking through a portal to another world. We never have to drive but are instantly transported into the same exact cave which exists in the megalithic mountains across the plains.

Outside of the top entrance to the cave is a vast steppe which sits tens of thousands of feet above sea level and stretches as far as the eye can see. It’s populated by roaming herds of non-carnivorous dinosaurs of various types coexisting peacefully. From the lower entrance to the cave there are predatory dinosaurs of gargantuan proportion. The cave itself is what protects the peaceful dinosaurs above from those below. Peering out from the cave’s base something resembling a long-necked t-rex catches sight of us and explodes forward excited by the rush of the hunt. He tries to force his way into the cave, and before he can reach us snaps his own neck against the roof of the cave after a powerful lunge forward. He falls to the ground as death glazes his eyes over.

It’s time for me to leave. I have an appointment to make in a distant land. I’m going to meet an ex-girlfriend whom I’ve always had a tendency of letting down at a concert with a large group of friends. As I’m driving I find out there is a twenty-three and me lab on the way to the concert. I stop by to begin a search for the sister I’ve never met or heard of, and as I pull into the lower level of the parking garage I black out from the candies.

I wake up in a wheelchair being pushed into the waiting room of the facility. I explain to them why I’m there and force my way out of the wheelchair. They tell me it’s impossible for them to help me because of covid while the room is full of unmasked people spitting into dna testing kits. I try to reason with them, but every approach fails. When I decide it’s time for me to leave they try to detain me. I’m not allowed to leave, but they refuse to tell me why. Multiple times throughout the interaction I feel frustration trying to overwhelm me, but I identify the feeling and let it pass. I maintain a Buddha calm and devise a plan of escape as they are wheeling me into a holding facility.

There are no guards or locks, so escape is remarkably easy until I make my way outside the building. It’s a labyrinth of physics defying passages and ladders. I can see the parking level where my car is, but it’s impossible to get to. Finally I find help from a disenfranchised employee. He guides me along the proper path. Behind a dumpster near my car I find my wallet which has been torn in half and is missing all but one credit card. For some reason a sense of dread based around the wallet issue tries to take hold and paralyze me, but again I keep my Buddha calm and carry on. I only need one card to pay for gas and buy my ticket. Anything more than the essentials is superfluous.

I arrive at the concert venue with only a few minutes left in the performance. My ex-girlfriend is enraged and saddened. She refuses to listen to the story of what happened to me and verbally berates me for what feels like an eternity. Everybody around has lost interest in the concert, and their attentions are focused on me. Her sister and friends are judging me harshly and chiming in when they feel the need to add their own attacks to Allison’s. I can’t get a single word in for my defense nor do I even try. She is right. I did disappoint her. The circumstances of why and how are irrelevant, just like my perspective is irrelevant to those caught up in the duality of the situation. I own my actions. I accept the consequences with love. I take refuge in this knowledge and embody all that is Buddha. In a moment which should be one of the most embarrassing of my life I feel nothing but peace and bliss.

The tirade is over. Allison and her friends leave. I know I’ll never see her again, but I understand this is what must happen. The crowd around me is no longer judging. They feel compassion and respect my ability to emanate love in the face of such intense hatred. They have begun to walk their Buddha paths. A few of them join me as I take an elevator to the top floor of the hotel/concert venue. There is a game which must be played on the roof: a very important game.

We meet the host of this game. I can’t quite make out her face or exact form, but I know she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen: tall and slender with long flowing curls of black so deep no light can escape them. Her caramel skin radiates the same light her hair absorbs. Her voice is enchanting, almost bewitching. She is wearing a black pencil skirt with a vertically striped black, grey, and white button-up top. She shows us the rules and our passes to play. Host and players together, we walk back across the building and enter the elevator to the roof. As the doors are closing I see a glint of light which tells me I’ve dropped something important a few meters down the hall from the elevator. I rush out of the elevator to retrieve it but fail to make it back before the doors slide shut.

Fear that I’m going to miss out on the game begins to set in but is somewhat alleviated as the elevator returns. I rush in to smash the roof button only to see that it won’t work for me. I need a pass to access it. The host still has mine. I’ve been shut out of the game forever. As fear begins to return a frantic desire to pursue the game at all costs encroaches on my mind. Instead of letting these feelings control me I close my eyes and let calmness flow over me. I love the moment for everything that it is and know that I am Buddha. When I open my eyes I’m on the roof. I am happy to be there, but I no longer feel a need to play the game. I observe the others play without judgment. I love them all whether they fail or succeed. I love myself for the opportunity to share their experiences.

It’s time for me to leave. I have another gathering to attend. This one is with old friends whom I’ve never met before. I also have a history of disappointing them. They’re quite surprised when I arrive on time. There is a massive feast before us. Everybody eats and drinks with joy. They reminisce of old times and revel in the current. I partake in the interactions but do not eat or drink anything. I am content. After the feast ends we have a carnival to be at. A carnival my friends have put together themselves in celebration of the moment. There is nothing specifically special about this moment. No holidays or anniversaries. It’s a celebration for the sake of celebration: to love every bit of life as we experience it.

Everybody dresses in costumes of their own design: an outer representation of the child within. There are rides and games, lights and balloons. People have come from all over time and space to enjoy this carnival. The focal point of the event is a massive carousel many times larger than any I’ve ever seen before. It has a nonspecific shape and structure, yet it obviously contains all shapes and movements. When people enter the carousel they do not emerge. They become part of it.

I walk around the structure until I come across a large fig tree. In a nook created by a splitting of the trunk sits the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen: tall and slender with long flowing curls of black so deep no light can escape them. Her caramel skin radiates the same light her hair absorbs. Her voice is enchanting, almost bewitching. I do not recognize her as the host from earlier though she is. She is wearing a long, flowing, indigo skirt with many pleats and flares as well as a ruffled, white bustier top decorated with filigree. Her wrists are adorned with many jeweled bracelets. She asks me a question of who created this carnival, and I start telling her of my friends. Before I make it all the way through describing them memory begins to fade. I wake up.