The Healer Dream

The healer dream followed the wrestling dream last night.

The wrestling dream was about me taking another’s place in a wrestling match. Throughout the dream, I mocked myself for being part of this crazy scheme where I would wrestle a high-schooler. I was doing so to keep the team from forfeiting. My match was either going to be first or second. I told myself and everyone else that I had no chance, that what we were doing was illegal, and that we were going to be caught, humiliated, and disqualified. In the end, I handed someone my watch, some expensive and exotic time piece, went and dressed for my match, and then waited, learning at the last second that my match would be the second one.

Dream end.

The healer dream was brief. I walked into a room. The room reminded me of a classroom, with desks, windows that looked out onto a lawn and playground, but I have no idea where it was. I don’t know why I was there. A woman dressed in a dark blue sundress in there told me she was sick, and then rattled off her health complaints. Brunette, with auburn shoulder-length hair, she looked tired and pale.

“I can fix that,” I said. Then as I touched different places on her, I would say something about infusing her with healing energy. For example, I touched her shoulders and said, “Infuse your shoulders with healing energy. Infuse your joints with healing energy and strength. Infuse your collagen, ligaments, tendons, and muscles with healing energy and strength. Infuse your bones with healing energy and strength.”

Although I did this all over her, it was done in a couple minutes. She stood up and said, “I feel great. All my pain is gone.” I nodded, like, yeah, that’s what I expected. That’s what I told her she was going to do. I was quite casual about it.

A man had entered while I was doing this with her. He was wearing clay-white walking shorts with a gold, short-sleeved shirt, sweat socks and activity shoes. He seemed in his fifties, with sandy hair cut short but casual, bangs across his forehead. Clean-shaved, he looked healthy enough, tan.

“Do me, do me,” he said.

I didn’t think he needed it, but he’d asked. Shrugging, I started healing him as I had her. When I did, he squatted down and grinned, continuing to grin as I healed her as I had him. He seemed very happy and satisfied with what I was doing to him.

Dream end.

The First Edition Act

This dream was in three acts. All acts are clear and memorable, but I’m only writing about a few scenes in the second act regarding a book.

I was in a classroom with seven others. It was the last day and we were almost finishing up. I’d been taken by the subject, about making improvements in how I live, as were my classmates. We’d become a close group, but after days of all-day classes, the classroom was messy.

Close to the final hour, we took a break. Two people came in. One was a cleaning person, a female, and the other was a young man. The young man was collecting books to send to a poor town in another country. In very high spirits, I helped the cleaning person, and then I helped the young man. They left. After a few more minutes, class was ready to resume.

When I went back to my seat, I discovered my copy of the book gone. I realized it must have gone with the young man and rushed out of the classroom to find him and retrieve my book.

The classroom was in a huge building and crowded with people. I hurried along, looking for the fellow and asking others if they’d seen him and where he’d gone. After some of this, a friend, Brent, told me that he’d seen the man leave by a side door several minutes before. I hurried there where another person said yes, the guy had been there, and he’d just driven off in his truck.

Upset, I wandered back toward my classroom, but I was obsessed. I wanted to keep the book for future use. Knowing that others had taken the course, I walked around to see if I could find another copy of it.

Dark blue, soft bound, with its title in yellow letters, I did find other copies of it. Some belonged to friends, and they were keeping the book. Nobody had an extra. I saw it alone on people’s desk a few times and thought about stealing those books, but that’s not something that I would do.

Continuing on my quest to find a copy, I entered a large work office. Everyone there was busy, and looked up when I entered. Embarrassed, I tried to slip through the classroom by staying close to the perimeter and get out without drawing too much attention or being an interruption. But doing that required me to pass the woman who was in charge. Calling me by name, she asked what I was doing.

I was impressed and pleased that she knew me by my name, as she was someone important in the company, so I told her had happened. Sympathizing, she offered me her copy of the book, and told me to keep it.

Her worn copy was black and smaller. As I declined taking it, I opened it and realized it was a signed first-edition. “I can’t take this, it’s a signed first edition.”

The woman waved me off. “Take it, it’s yours.”

After so more of similar back and forth, I left with the book. Outside the office, I stood in the hall to consider the prize that’d been given to me.

End of act.

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