Something Else I Had to Write...and I really DID have this dream...
Last Thursday, a dinner conversation with my brother prompted the weirdest dream I've had in a long time, but I'm very thankful I had it; if I can be honest, I needed to...
When I remember my dream starting, I was fighting with my brother, Jeff, for whatever reason, I have no idea. But there was some sort of conflict, and we were at each other. Now, to add to the weirdness of this dream, the way I dreamed it was movie like; everything about it was movie like, from camera shots and weird camera angles to theme music. It was overly dramatic, and there was an element to it that was quite unreal; it was if the events I was involved with weren't actually happening. We were chasing each other through some sort of house or apartment, shooting at each other the way people do in the movies. Running and shooting, it was as if it was some sort of game, and both my brother and I were quite unaware of what our actions might cost us--what could happen was oblivious to us.
The next thing I remember is that my gun ran out of bullets: "click, click" and I threw my gun to the floor as my brother came into the room I was in, and met me face to face. I knocked him to the floor and stood over him. He pointed his gun at me, so I lowered myself to where he was, and grabbed the gun in his hands. We began to struggle as movie foes do, trying to gain control. The music got louder as the movie played on.
Our hands shaking, I began to win the struggle as I turned the gun towards Jeff. With renewing strength, I began to realize that this movie was going to end in my favor; the movie-ness became more intense, now, and I aimed the gun at Jeff's heart. A compulsion drove me to complete the task--I pulled the trigger, and shot Jeff in the heart. As soon as I did, the movie-ness of my dream ended -- what was fake became very real, and all of a sudden, Jeff and I weren't in a movie anymore. This was now real life, and Jeff was bleeding badly from the wound I caused. His eyelids were fluttering and his face was now plagued with disbelief. All of a sudden, I was very aware of my decision, and the consequences of my actions. I placed my hands on his heart to stop the bleeding, but blood was pouring out form underneath my hands -- my efforts were futile, and I began to say in horror, "Oh, Jeffrey, Jeffrey!" As I grabbed him close to me, I was watching him die; I placed my head on his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat...he was barely breathing, and I agonized with my decision: MY decision that was now bringing Jeff's death. I looked up at Melissa, who was also there for some reason, and tried to find an answer in her eyes, but of course, there were no answers to be found. The dream ended as I listened to my brother's final heartbeat...
I woke up terrified at the reality of such a VIVID nightmare. Tears filled my eyes as I tried to answer the question of WHY I would dream a dream like that at all. What did it mean, and what was I supposed to gain from such a sense of loss? After futile attempts trying to wake up Melissa, I was left alone with my thoughts, still haunting me.
And then, as clearly as I can possibly state it, the meaning of the dream came to me as if read from a book.
My dream was a catastrophic view of my own selfishness; the tendency I have to choose in my own best interest, regardless of what it will do to someone else. As the meaning of the dream came to me, I was mortified; I was pierced.
The truth about selfishness is this: we never know the ripple effect our decisions will have, be they good or bad. We never know how our impulsive decisions will cause another's life to be turned upside down. It's in our nature to act on something like instinct, we are prone to it. But, we also have the capacity to CHOOSE what we ought to do, and often, we choose without regard for others; we want to win; we want to succeed; we want to shoot to gun first, not caring what or who we will hurt, or even 'kill.' Think about it: our decisions should NEVER be the death of something we hold dear; but often, they are.
What scared me so badly about my dream is that I didn't seem to care at all what might happen to Jeff; I only cared about me; about completing my task; I only cared about not dying; I didn't care about Jeff living. I know it may seem silly to scrutinize a dream so much, but it was all so vivid, so real, so painfully palpable; touchable, and what scared me was the reality of it all. I made a single choice SO easily. I decided in as instant, with only myself in mind.
I don't want to cause death; I don't want to cause hurt. But I have. And? I will again. The tendency to fail because I'm too nearsighted SUCKS. I fear my own negative potential, but as I stated before, is this prospective such a bad thing? Maybe if I'm scared enough of my own desire to to serve self, I'll think carefully before taking another step...
We have a moral obligation to others, I believe. We have been charged to be careful with other's hearts, so as not to break them. Sometimes, sure, we make careless mistakes and there are casualties, but other times we chose to act despite the great risk in doing so. Fear comes upon me as I am left to myself. If there is fear in my own nature, then there HAS to be an answer outside of myself. If I cannot be trusted, then there HAS to be someone or something that is...as I seek and search to find what ought to be, I put down the proverbial gun, realizing the harm it will inevitably cause...
When I remember my dream starting, I was fighting with my brother, Jeff, for whatever reason, I have no idea. But there was some sort of conflict, and we were at each other. Now, to add to the weirdness of this dream, the way I dreamed it was movie like; everything about it was movie like, from camera shots and weird camera angles to theme music. It was overly dramatic, and there was an element to it that was quite unreal; it was if the events I was involved with weren't actually happening. We were chasing each other through some sort of house or apartment, shooting at each other the way people do in the movies. Running and shooting, it was as if it was some sort of game, and both my brother and I were quite unaware of what our actions might cost us--what could happen was oblivious to us.
The next thing I remember is that my gun ran out of bullets: "click, click" and I threw my gun to the floor as my brother came into the room I was in, and met me face to face. I knocked him to the floor and stood over him. He pointed his gun at me, so I lowered myself to where he was, and grabbed the gun in his hands. We began to struggle as movie foes do, trying to gain control. The music got louder as the movie played on.
Our hands shaking, I began to win the struggle as I turned the gun towards Jeff. With renewing strength, I began to realize that this movie was going to end in my favor; the movie-ness became more intense, now, and I aimed the gun at Jeff's heart. A compulsion drove me to complete the task--I pulled the trigger, and shot Jeff in the heart. As soon as I did, the movie-ness of my dream ended -- what was fake became very real, and all of a sudden, Jeff and I weren't in a movie anymore. This was now real life, and Jeff was bleeding badly from the wound I caused. His eyelids were fluttering and his face was now plagued with disbelief. All of a sudden, I was very aware of my decision, and the consequences of my actions. I placed my hands on his heart to stop the bleeding, but blood was pouring out form underneath my hands -- my efforts were futile, and I began to say in horror, "Oh, Jeffrey, Jeffrey!" As I grabbed him close to me, I was watching him die; I placed my head on his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat...he was barely breathing, and I agonized with my decision: MY decision that was now bringing Jeff's death. I looked up at Melissa, who was also there for some reason, and tried to find an answer in her eyes, but of course, there were no answers to be found. The dream ended as I listened to my brother's final heartbeat...
I woke up terrified at the reality of such a VIVID nightmare. Tears filled my eyes as I tried to answer the question of WHY I would dream a dream like that at all. What did it mean, and what was I supposed to gain from such a sense of loss? After futile attempts trying to wake up Melissa, I was left alone with my thoughts, still haunting me.
And then, as clearly as I can possibly state it, the meaning of the dream came to me as if read from a book.
My dream was a catastrophic view of my own selfishness; the tendency I have to choose in my own best interest, regardless of what it will do to someone else. As the meaning of the dream came to me, I was mortified; I was pierced.
The truth about selfishness is this: we never know the ripple effect our decisions will have, be they good or bad. We never know how our impulsive decisions will cause another's life to be turned upside down. It's in our nature to act on something like instinct, we are prone to it. But, we also have the capacity to CHOOSE what we ought to do, and often, we choose without regard for others; we want to win; we want to succeed; we want to shoot to gun first, not caring what or who we will hurt, or even 'kill.' Think about it: our decisions should NEVER be the death of something we hold dear; but often, they are.
What scared me so badly about my dream is that I didn't seem to care at all what might happen to Jeff; I only cared about me; about completing my task; I only cared about not dying; I didn't care about Jeff living. I know it may seem silly to scrutinize a dream so much, but it was all so vivid, so real, so painfully palpable; touchable, and what scared me was the reality of it all. I made a single choice SO easily. I decided in as instant, with only myself in mind.
I don't want to cause death; I don't want to cause hurt. But I have. And? I will again. The tendency to fail because I'm too nearsighted SUCKS. I fear my own negative potential, but as I stated before, is this prospective such a bad thing? Maybe if I'm scared enough of my own desire to to serve self, I'll think carefully before taking another step...
We have a moral obligation to others, I believe. We have been charged to be careful with other's hearts, so as not to break them. Sometimes, sure, we make careless mistakes and there are casualties, but other times we chose to act despite the great risk in doing so. Fear comes upon me as I am left to myself. If there is fear in my own nature, then there HAS to be an answer outside of myself. If I cannot be trusted, then there HAS to be someone or something that is...as I seek and search to find what ought to be, I put down the proverbial gun, realizing the harm it will inevitably cause...