As I explored it in dawn’s rising light, I realized that the dream was about dealing with others’ opinion.
I was a young writer in a cafe, very busy with computer, notebook, and coffee at my round wooden table. Small and crowded, the cafe was noisy. I left briefly and zip, in dream fashion, was at another business. It appeared to be another cafe or restaurant but featured naked women. I learned the business was closing, which was why I’d gone to the establishment. I’d been talking and visiting several of the women who worked there, doing research and interviewing them. Their information was essential to what I was writing. I worried about losing their input, so I was staying in touch with them, trying to help them get jobs, etc.
I felt good about helping them and hopeful. I noticed as an aside that the place where they worked and the place where I wrote were decorated the same way and were the same size, an aspect of the two places which amused me.
Returning to the cafe where I was writing, another woman confronted me. Hostile and noisy, she made snide remarks about where I’d been, because “She’d seen me.” I acknowledged that was where I’d been and attempted to explain why without going into much of what I was writing, but she kept dismissing me. Each time I began speaking, she rudely spoke over me, denying the chance to tell the truth, insisting that I only went and helped those women because they were naked. I grew angry and frustrated, and then dismissive of her.
Yesterday, Saturday, July 2, offered us heavy rain, thunder, and lightning. We don’t experience a lot of this in Ashland. As my partner commented, we usually receive a rain like this at the end of July. We do get ‘dry’ thunderstorms, where the clouds pile up over the mountains and then roll across the valley, darkening the sky and dropping the temperature before singing their bass throat music. Far lightning came sometimes be seen. It was all different yesterday, the once-a-year storm that we typically experience.
Today is Sunday, July 3, 2022. It’s cool, just 10 C now, with predictions and forecasts that we’ll reach the upper to mid 70s F. Clouds have blanked the sunshine and blue sky. Mists cuddle up to the tree line on the mountains. The air smells of wet grass, dirt, and bark.
Sunrise was at 5:39 AM. The sun will do its disappearing act about 8:51 PM. Again. That sunset time hasn’t changed since before the solstice.
I went out and listened to the rain, alone, enjoying the smell and sound. Drops hurled down, dashing off the pavement, an unsynchronized drumline in a private public performance. Thunder erratically punctuated moments. As it faded, I enjoyed the silence. No cars, birds, cats, or people. Nothing but me and the storm as it carried its show north and away. The silence was a balm for the day, and I thought, I hope nothing breaks this silence. Just let me have this for a little longer.
Well, The Neurons said, “We know that song.” I replied, “What song?”
They responded with “Don’t Answer Me” by the Alan Parsons Project from 1984. I don’t recall when I’d last heard it. Lines in the song go, “Don’t answer me, don’t break the silence, don’t let me win. Don’t answer me, stay on your island, don’t let me in.” Oh, how The Neurons love playing these word association music games. I think they might be a little compulsive-obsessive about it.
Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as and when needed and get the boosters as, when, and if you’re able. Time for a morning jolt, you know what I’m saying? Here’s the music. Cheers