DREAMS III

Oct. 27/10 The Song of The Day Is “Allison” by Elvis Costello ( Just a pretty song in it’s own way) Writing requires a lot of concentration and effort on my part. It takes a lot out of me . It provides a release of sorts from the grip that the cancers have on me . Writing everything down seems to makes me a bit stronger and the cancer a bit weaker. For a short while at least. I am exhausted to begin with and even more so after I finish writing. It is a good type of exhaustion though , like a good cry. While I am writing , at least in my mind ,the cancers loosen their grip a little and for while don’t run what is left of my life as I walk the thin line. Wavering towards death and then leaning back towards this living world. Sleep is no longer sleep. I either pass out from exhaustion with the help of medication ,or I visit what seems to be a different place. A place that is not of this world but still somehow strangely related to it. This is no joke . These places and experiences are as real as a hand touching the skin on your body. Sometimes , I am aware of my physical body and where it is during these sojourns . Just as aware as you are of someone standing next to you while you are wide awake. I keep a notepad beside my bed .A “steno” book , like the ones that were used by secretaries to take letters and such in short hand . Long ago , in “Dictaphone” days . I keep a retractable pencil stuck in the metal twist at the top of the notebook. This is so I can write these experiences down as soon as my eyes open . If I get busy or distracted after my eyes open , I will forget. What amazes me is the senses that get involved during these trips. I experience touch and smell during these trips. I have to admit that some of the dreams are prophetic. Sometimes I can read something into them . Simple stuff mostly. Like an upcoming snowfall or a place and situation that I will soon experience. Similar occurances that I experience during theses sojournes , occur in life shortly thereafter. Sometimes the “places ‘ are intricate experiences , wondrous worlds inhabited with colourful characters that posses true depth in their personalities. Sometimes they are simply weird . Sometimes they are scary , but not terrifying. A recent dream got my attention because my sense of smell was involved. Not only was smell involved , the smell lingered after I was wide awake. I was walking along a street. To my left was a row of crumbling merchants stalls. The rubble spilling out onto the street. I walked by one demolished shop. My feet made a sound like the sound that would be made if you were dragging your feet through gravel. As I walked alongside side one of these crumbling shops the distinct smell of a house fire invaded my nostrils. Suddenly I was floating
and making my way through a black void . My arms were searching through the black void . They were searching for something bad . Something cruel to grab a hold of and do battle with. I could clearly see my arms outstretched and searching in front of me. They appeared as black silhouette against a black void ?. I awoke . I was wide awake . I writing this down in my “stemo” pad as I sat upright in my bed. The distinct strong odour of the house fire from my dream lingered. The odour was present for a good 10 minutes after I had awakened. After I finished writing and put the “steno’ book down I took another brief trip into this subconscious world. A hunched over elderly native gentleman was holding onto a young girls hand as he was walking towards a door . There was nothing else there. Just a door in a white void. Our eyes met in a friendly manner. I knew that I must let him pass .Let him enter the door ahead of me first. I then awoke again. A few people that I have had discussions with about dying have suggested that I pay close attentions to my dreams.I think that this is good advice. My time is “now “ to consider the non-physical aspects of death and dying. Bye