This morning would have been a perfect morning for a Spirit interview. I woke in the sunlight with the sound of the fan streaming at 6:45. Wait, it’s Sunday, back to sleep!
At 9:30, I woke to a grand stretch, and with small peelings of a dream that withered away. It was of a door, behind which was a secret passageway to the “world of library” where in this land, we would create information by naming ourselves. I woke to my body squiggling into the narrow hole, and hoping to get the door shut to not reveal the secret place, behind the door. Jaz was already down, and I, worried that my hips wouldn’t fit, squiggled and squiggled until my blankets were nestled beneath my knees and the sounds of birds and spiraling fan greeted me. Could it be that I have arrived? Or have I (simply) woken?
In the Interpretation of Dreams, Sigmund Freud writes:
The way in which dreams treat the category of contraries and contradictories is highly remarkable. It is simply disregarded. “No” seems not to exist so far as dreams are concerned. They show a particular preference for combining contraries into a unity of representing them as one and the same thing. Dreams feel themselves at liberty, moreover, to represent any element by its wishful contrary; so that there is no way of deciding at first glance whether any element that admits of a contrary is present in the dream-thoughts as a positive or as a negative.
And so, the question arises: What if I am still dreaming?
Or what if, I’ve never actually been fully awake, since, this Saturn life of mine has been full of contraries and contradictions. This week is a good example: the BOAT.
Yesterday, I found myself on a boat, a ship, that left the dock in Brooklyn, we took the ferry to Wall street, then boarded another to Governors Island. The trip was inconsequential, except that it was marvelous. The water’s ebbing as the ship moved from the dock startled my lover who insisted that she could not watch it recede, then collect again. The movement looked as if it would suck her in: she wasn’t afraid, it was as if she were recalling a memory, “It must be some past life shit” she said. Perhaps, it was an ancestral memory, I thought. We stepped away and considered Spirit.
This would have been no special occurrence. It’s a Saturday, why not take a trip to an island by way of ferry. In fact, it would have not been dream-like at all if the day before (Friday), I hadn’t been on a cruiseship -Cruise to nowhere, cash bar, DJ, 21+ -so not my kind of experience, but there I was, on a four hour passage along the Hudson. There were straight men, women in stilettos, tight dresses and plaid suits, ganja smoking on the deck. It was overlooking the star-light-like landscape of New York City and New Jersey, practically touching the nation’s torch-holding popstar, when I found the boat an incredibly sticky, claustrophobic space. Why do we gather to drink and dance without any (other) real sense of community?
And so the question that came to me, as I wriggled out of my dream this morning: What is the significance of The Boat? Any searching I did on boats led to Boats and Dreams:
- A state of transition
- Water as a cleansing
- Missed Opportunity
- Oko against Yemeja’s waters
- The Middle Passage
I must say, I couldn’t help but relay this to my Saturn. My new wife and I have just wed, as the pics resemble here. Is it a surprise that we spent the day before (Thursday) deciding on whether to do an 8-day cruise to celebrate? Indeed, I have entered a new journey, a transitional space. Spirit has led me to a boat, atop the water. One boat claustrophobic, one boat a recalling. One boat, a possibility. Each a journey atop water, windward on deck,eyes cast to flickering lights, tasting the black of the night.
Journey – Passage – Travel – Place,