Last Night's Simple Dream

Last Night's Simple Dream

    It's a silly thing, I suppose - sharing something like a dream with no meaning and no reason other than that it was...it was just nice. It wasn't deep, and there's no plot. There's no moral to the story, and nothing to work out. No problems to solve, and nothing that memorable, except, it was nice.

  I'd hosted a small party of about 20 people for an informal, possibly pot luck, get together. It was my house, and nice and dark and comfortable. There were groups of 3 and 5's of people chatting in the living room and on the front porch. It was dusk and very relaxed. I had thought of opening my office/library for mingling, but had the French doors closed. I was looking around to see if I needed to tidy anything or if anyone needed coffee or sodas, when someone told me we had another guest, and it was Gene. 

   He was an old friend, and they said he needed to see me. I wondered what was up, but was glad to see him, and took him through the party, as everyone said their, "Hellos." I offered we could talk in the library, and he said, very cheerfully, "Why don't we go for a ride?" I thought it sounded like fun, so we went out the back door where cars were parked. I said, "Why don't we take both cars?" and he thought it was a great idea. I've no idea what happened to whatever it was he wanted to talk about. This was Gene Wilder, by the way. Great to see him, and I did not know him, but in the dream.

   I set out driving on a road I've driven on in many dreams. I don't know where I'm imagining, but it curves gently, and sometimes there's a bridge, and I drive off a small ramp to the Right and down to a creek that leads into the large body of water, and I sit alone on the large reddish or rust colored, smooth boulder with my feet hanging off, away from everyone, and I watch the water. It is the most peaceful, beautiful dream.

    This time, Gene was driving behind me, and I could see him smiling in the mirror. There is always a curve that I'm more careful on, so as not to go off the road. I saw it ahead just as Gene passed me smiling, and turned Right, out into the water, and I laughed, and thought, "That's just like Gene," and his car became a motorized John boat. He waved with a laughter filled, "Until next time," and I was glad I got to see him, and glad to see him happy. I thought I'd drive down to the little off ramp that took me to the boulder where I could sit and watch the water. I kept thinking it was a beautiful day.

tinajonesart

Thoughts on Mourning: Recent passing of Carl Reiner

Thoughts on Mourning: (Mel Brooks after Carl Reiner's death.)

 Thoughts.... I'm worried about Mel Brooks. He was married to that ridiculously pretty lady, and it hurt him when she died. Anne Bancroft, that was her name. They seemed so in love. Carl Reiner sort of made it bearable for him. They did an old Black and White bit together. I saw an interview, and the two of them talked like an old married couple finishing one another's sentences...laughing. They've been friends so long, and Mr. Reiner passed away last night. So wrong. I mean, maybe Ms. Bancroft and Mr. Reiner had their, "Forever after" in Mel Brooks, and he's done nothing but give us all laughs, but damn. What about his forever after? It's just not right. I don't mind being, "Alone." I like a quiet life of solitude, but it's not for everyone, and I don't think it's for Mel Brooks. He was good at being one of a pair. I think if people are close friends or couples, then both of them should have to live until they both croak, so no one has to miss anybody. That's all.

 The part that didn't go on Facebook, about me.

 It's not fair to me that some people really do love one another, and it lasts so many years, and grows and they bond, then it's gone. I know there is no better way. It's the design, perhaps,  and everyone has a story, but if it lasts, then I think it might be worse letting go. If you did the work, and got to that place together, it ought to last. Of course, I've lost people, and loves of my life began dropping off when I was a teen, and three more followed over the years. It was worth it every time,at least to me to love and be loved, and although I was gutted, after a little healing, I was glad that, if they had to go, at least someone gentle was with them, at least someone loved them, and it was me rather than someone who'd be mean.

   I was their, "Forever after." I had to find something to hold on to, something that wouldn't die, and that's why I began meditating. It comforted me when arms could not. Every death is horrible and even if you know it's coming, it rips a person apart. If not for thinking at least they had someone, then it would all be so useless. sighs.

  That pain is so great, that it rivals the pain of being alone, and eventually I came to peace with accepting either way, peace no matter which way the tears fell, and peace even when, seemingly blasphemous, I felt something like ...happiness.

   There is sorrow the depths of which I cannot describe walking around with my love and serenity. Is this what it is to be human? I think it is. I had to love, and if people can't live forever, and if I were to have no forever after or something that arrived near the end which no one can count on, or not, then I would crack myself open. Boundaries, and hopelessness be damned! I'd love the whole World exactly as it was, and not even death could stop me.

  Sometimes I look at the statues of nuns in bliss over the expanse of their love and maybe there's something bigger to cause it, maybe it's the nature of humans. All I know is I've lived a life that didn't need "Eternal" love, else it would have been there, and my god, it felt like I needed it, but I was wrong. I felt the desperate hunger everyone else does, but the sustenance of romantic passion was fleeting and somehow not a thing that I could hold on to, no matter how much they wanted to stay and how much I wanted them....to stay. Sighs, I know this love, and somehow it is for others. Still self pity, balm that it may be, is no sustenance.

   What I needed more than anything was to love, so I did, and subsequently found myself loved. Isn't that strange, delightfully strange? I may not get to have a forever after with one, and I've found peace with the bittersweet beauty of love anyway, but this is not a path I'd wish on anyone. It is hard, harder than building walls against it, the surrender to love or let go always in limbo and open empath in bliss and agony. I re-feel the sorrow of letting that dream die whenever someone else experiences catastrophic loss. I pray they find someone else, but should they not, I know another way. I may be insane, and I recommend it, but I know love that's greater than I can at times bear. Still, even as I melt in moments into love itself, sighs. You can't really split a cookie with or hold Universal Love.
 
   I'm o.k. to grow old this way or not. I'm open to romantic love and have been for many years. It doesn't come anymore, now that I don't hunt it down, neither fighting it, nor seeking.  I laugh at myself. It never was something to capture or hide from. In truth, it just happened, and it stopped happening. I don't know why, and that's o.k.
 
   I'm also open to being in solitude. At times partnered, I longed for such quiet too, but again I tell you, you can be happy either way. I don't skip through fields of flowers single, but I didn't do that coupled either. Either way, there's good work to be done, play to be had, and satisfaction mixed with desires. Either way, there is growth, rest and reflection. Overall, although, I pine romantic at times, I have, in fact, been happier alone. That's what I'm not sure other people have.

tinajonesart