A Dream of Death

I do not believe I have dreamed of my own death before last night.
If I ever have, I do not recall it.
It has left me quite thoughtful this morning, which is understandable I suppose.
It may have been brought on by the news of a friend's demise yesterday from lung cancer, and I am a veteran smoker. But she was not in the dream, and I have suffered the loss of many friends by this time in my life without dreaming about my own departure.

In the dream, I was playing bass at some sort of memorial concert to myself. Odd.
My symptoms seemed to be a steady loss of energy and reality and a refusal to hand the bass to anyone else even though my playing worsened as the concert, one long endless song.... progressed.

I finally relinquished the instrument, to considerable applause meant either for my courage or good sense to stop offending music, and I was seated in a large wooden chair to greet well wishers. I could not distinguish a single face or voice as they spoke to me, until a woman appeared on the arm of my old friend Mr. Bob King. These were the first two I recognized.

I was very happy that she had come, although she exuded a reluctance to be there. But she was dutifully smiling and when she was leaving the building I managed myself out of the chair and followed her outside.
She seemed very tiny.
I said I had something to say to her, and she moved close to me, her face cast down.
"I am sorry for all the grief I caused you" I said weakly.
She looked up and smiled an acknowlegment.
"I want to leave you something. And I want something in return."
She didn't ask about either. I sensed she knew what they were.

She looked down again and I spoke...
"I have talent I did not use and music I did not write, and I want you to have it. It is in a box and it will come out for you. That is what I leave you..."

She looked up again and a soft smile came over her face. An understanding was in her eyes and they locked onto mine. She finally knew the truth. We looked at each other for what seemed a very long time, and joy rushed thru me. We did not speak again. It was the happiest I had ever been.

She slowly closed her eyes and offered her lips.
I met them fully and tenderly.

A hand reached out and led her away.
She didn't look back. She couldn't.

I did not mind at all.
I understood.
It was settled.

This is an accurate description.
I see in this dream many allegorical representations.

My friend the smoker dies and I am reminded of the Russian Roulette I myself play every day...with it's inherent death wish.

I must play at my own memorial...what sad insecurity does that evoke?

But the most important thing I draw from this dream is the woman. She could be all the women I have known and disappointed and I seek their final absolution. The last conversation represents my desire for their forgiveness. I receive it. The woman is a Godly figure who finally accepts my unsettling nature and fogives me.


Ahh...the mind certainly is a mysterious creature