DB Dream

Very strong dream this morning: I’d won dinner with Derren Brown and he and Nicky and I were together conversing this and that. He was usual Derren Brown superior atheist sceptic and I was usual Rory biting tongue no point getting into pointless arguments yet still believing believer. Later, we were elsewhere and I wanted to try and levitate, to prove, I guess, my point experientially. I did it different this time: not the chair position lift off but, instead, lying on my back, eyes closed, and trying to bump off the ground. I’d bump and bump and then when I was exhausted I’d let go and go into a kind of trance and feel myself floating, lifting maybe two or three feet high, drifting around the room, eyes still closed for fear of breaking the spell. When I was done I looked at Derren – but he apparently hadn’t been watching; that was frustrating. So I tried again, but the juice was gone. I implored Nicky to tell him what she’d seen but she was tongue-tied and stumbled. She did say she saw me floating “waist high” but he kind of gave her a look and she got doubtful and he just laughed the whole thing off; obviously she hadn’t seen anything.

But that’s not what the strong bit was: the strong bit was later, when we were walking, and I was doing my best not to get into discussions of spiritual matters and just get to know the guy. I wanted more dinners, more hangings out. We were in some streets by some funky shops; Derren said to Nicky, “go in there, you’ll find the perfect shoes,” and in she went. Then he turned to me, grabbed me by the shoulders, and said real meaningful that I should leave her, that some kind of crisis point was coming up – the moment of choice, what he called “the [something] of [somethings]” (it was such a good phrase, but all I can think it was was “the severity of severities” or “the scarcity of scarcities” – though neither of those make any sense; hopefully it’ll come back). Then he told me to seek out my true soulmate – and I immediately thought of Grace. It was a powerful message. Prophetic. And seemed to be coming through him with some obvious reluctance. He said he’d see me after, hinting that it would be in the role of teacher, but that all this would have to come to pass first. I wanted to ask him “Colorado?” but he wouldn’t let me. Then he skipped off down some stairs, almost leaping or floating down the entire flight. “Spring-heeled Jack,” I called after him teasingly, which I now seem to remember is some kind of name for the devil – great; the last time I had a dream giving me ‘soulmate messages’ it was through some kind of imp I wasn’t sure was good or bad.

I couldn’t much look at Nicky for a time after I woke up. And this is after I’ve been trying to forget my Coloradan dream girl. But my heart was back set on the old sneakeroo and a weird old jaunt down there. The moment of crisis, I figured, was Nicky getting – or not getting – pregnant. This is what occurred to me at the moment in the dream, and, waking, I see no reason to change that. Certainly, I want to be careful – which I, and we, are generally not.

Strangely enough, things have been good with Nicky of late. She’s let go of whatever demands – however subtle – she’d been placing on me and seems to be coming over all lovey-dovey and accepting. For my part, it amazes me how well she tolerates my mad head – it must be bizarre to live with me, the way I come bouncing in and telling crazy stories and expounding my strange theories about how love and sex and romance is all made-up. But she handles it so well. She just looks in and smiles and she really is Dean Moriarty’s Inez. Problem being there that Dean left Inez pretty prompt sharp, much preferring the hard-times of Camille.

Still, what I’m trying to say is, she’s good. She fulfils that thing that I’ve always thought I wanted in a woman – no hassles – and amazes me no end with how well she puts up with me, laughing at my farts, indulging my whims, saying, “no problem” as I head out the door for yet another game of football after she’s been at work all day and all I’ve been doing is lazing around writing or playing squash or simply lazing. A good woman indeed. But…does she rock my world? Am I “in love”? And are those things even necessary? Those are the big questions.

A dream: it was just a dream. But a telling dream at that. Well, I have all kinds of mad dreams and lots of them are strong, but generally I figure they don’t mean anything. Some, however, do, and I’ve come to reap great benefits by paying attention to them. So what of this one? Messages on changes to be made? Or does it merely appear significant because its contents tie in with my fantasy life, telling of my subconscious wants rather than any sense of outside/higher instruction? Like crazy Eve always dreaming of me and having her feelings of my presence and thinking it means I’m thinking of her when it’s only ever her. Damn; I don’t know; I guess we’ll see. Outside/higher instructions probably appear more than once, and rage persistent, insistent, and ultimately get their way. The feeling is overpowering, never a mere wondering and hoping, something you can’t live without. Like Sophie. Like Jonah and his whale. Like the dreams that kept me in Mexico the first time.

We shall see. Just thought I’d type it here though. Maybe it never appears again and it’s just the thrashing of the tail of the old desires and fantasies: the dying dragon that’s been whispering various things to me these past few months. Sometimes he breaths fire and I get hot and then watch as it dissipates. And sometimes he roars his roar and I think, my God, he’s real, and try and grab hold of him, forget he’s nothing but fading embers in the fire of past subconscious dreams and then I make him real and bring him back to life.

It’s about choosing what to breathe life into – but sometimes the choices make themselves.

Like I say: we shall see.