One night I’m in a holy land…
…and the next night, I’m in an unholy land.
What’s going on here?
One morning, I woke from a dream in which I’m walking through the city of Sao Paulo, Brazil (a place I’ve never actually visited):
The architecture is amazing. The same motif is repeated until it becomes overpowering. I see white stone arches, plazas with white columns, a white statute of Jesus looking down into an empty pool.
The city is much larger than I’d imagined. White buildings cluster on the distant hills for as far as the eye can see.
A wonderful dream, yes. But the next morning, I woke from this scenario:
I’m in New Orleans—actually it’s a combination of New Orleans and Arizona.
I’m taking two guests around town—but we’re visiting the same places that we always visit, so there’s a sense of sameness, of boredom.
We stop at a garish strip club.
As we wait outside, I look at the display of a “Ripley’s Believe It or Not” museum next door.
The display is musty, dingy, filled with disorganized bric-a-brac—including a female mannequin with a “wound” on one buttock.
How can both these dreams be picturing my inner life? They were only a day apart.
Maybe you can be two places at the same time.
But after taking a long look at the second dream…
…I realized that even in such a place there is soul, there is spiritual life. Not at the same level as Sao Paulo; nonetheless, it’s there.
This “lowness” occurs when I forget—or rather, ignore—the spirituality inherent in every moment of life.
When I lose this sense of spirituality, life becomes routine, stale, stagnant, ugly, and dry.
I can so easily lose Sao Paulo and descend to New Orleans, Arizona.
It all depends on awareness…
…and maintaining awareness during my waking hours depends, in part, on listening to my dreams.
© 2011, Michael R. Patton
sky rope poetry