Last week I dreamed that my son put together an intricate project rather like a LEGO construction. A teacher allowed the smashing of the project (or did it herself). I tried to collect the pieces on a blanket, but was chased away by the teacher before all was gathered.
I scooped up the blanket and dashed off to Spanish. That teacher was busy roving around the school, but never entering her classroom. I chased her around speaking Spanish, though she couldn’t be bothered. Finally, she turned on me and stated that she was all together wrapped up in her thoughts about her husband and would I please go away.
With a sigh, I sat down next to a very sad older man who told me that he had been ordered to quit playing his violin. In fact, his violin had been taken from him by the powers that be. I told him to ignore that nonsense, get a new violin, and chase his happiness. He left to do just that. Later an angry teacher informed me that his building had a no music policy. The man was kicked out of his home as a result of picking up his instrument. I pressed her for more information and she grudgingly admitted that he had a new place to live and was happier, however I had stirred the pot and things definitely should not be changed — even if for the better.
I sat down and cried. The principal stumbled upon me and draped his arm over my shoulders as I cried and cried. Maybe I even sobbed a little.
Aside from the fact that it is clear by the way I can’t easily identify myself or my son as the student that I have a severe detachment disorder, this dream is odd in how OBVIOUS it relates to my ongoing “where the f*** is my kid going to school next year” dilemma. I’d much rather be dreaming about falling, or having my teeth fall out, or being chased by zombies.
But wait! There’s more! I had another dream last night. I was in a huge concert hall attending an audience participation performance. We were all playing along and once in a while an audience member would be spotlighted for a singing solo. Willie Nelson sang from a few aisles behind me! Then a performer handed the microphone to some American Idol flunky who refused to sing. He used the microphone instead to say this was stupid and everyone should bail. A few audience members did just that. Then a few more. American Idol wouldn’t quit deriding the effort and the hall continued to bleed its contents and I stared at more empty chairs. I began to sing louder but just a few joined that effort. I took the microphone and asked if everyone couldn’t just wait. Couldn’t we give the performance a chance to shine? Weren’t we all just enjoying ourselves? Don’t be sheep to the false Idol! Didn’t you hear Willie Nelson sing? Willie Freaking NELSON!
But people continued to leave and I woke up to rain outside my window and the remembrance of a promise to go to church to watch my daughter light the Word and maybe get rid of a few more boxes of Girl Scout cookies.
My last two posts were not simply about moving and fighting. They were about the right time and the right way to move and the fights worth having and when to have them. Obviously, I have some unresolved issues as my memories, my present, and my dreams have smacked up against each other amping my already angsty existence.
* Luke 5:1-11 ish. I’d better just cast my damn net. I don’t know what I’m fishing for, but there’s something in here somewhere I’m supposed to know, be, do. Jesus was the master of teaching through allegory. As I’m not much of an allegorist, or teacher, I probably should quit telling tales of my misspent youth and my frustrating dreamland. So, to be more pointed (or blunt?):
1) I don’t want to move and I don’t want to merge and I am trying to be sensitive that my kids may be concerned about such movement and mergement.
2) I am well acquainted with fighting with my fists, though I haven’t done so in nearly three decades. It typically leads to more fights and bruised people. Fighting with words is not so eloquent. Fighting with solutions to meet the needs of all involved is difficult at best and impossible most of the time. Must I continue fighting a fight that makes me fight with my friends, as well as those who shouldn’t be enemies, for a goal that may not be achievable or if it is it will be achieved after our time?
3) Also, for the love of whatever you love, can we who comment on news stories agree to stop being vindictive and quit punishing kids? Could we work together to support kids? I know there is a better way. If you are ever presented the opportunity, please persuade people to be pissed all they want at whomever they want but that their vengeance shouldn’t be exacted on children?
4) I really need some untroubled sleep.
**In case it’s not obvious, I’m the sinner and I’m not entirely sure if I want to answer the door, much less how to answer.