In my dream, I am in a building that feels like a school-type structure. I am employed by Leeds & Northrup again.
I belong to a committee that is somehow associated with L&N. That relationship is not well disclosed. There are a total of 3 people on the committee. And I know that the committee has been pretty disfunctional for some time.
I have a piece of paper in my hand. It's that shiny paper that people use for advertising handouts. It's all printed up nicely, but the contents of the writing are not what holds my interest. At the bottom of the note, written in red ink -- possibly a Sharpie -- is a message concerning the work of the committee. It's a short note that winds up something like "Call Joan." (I think the name was Joan, but I might be mistaken.) It's not given to me to know whether "Joan" is part of the committee or not. But either way, she might well furnish what's needed to get the committee's work back on track.
So I realize that getting in touch with "Joan" would be an excellent idea. And I ask an associate -- who also may or may not be a member of the committee -- for Joan's phone number or other means of contact. This other person -- who reminds me a bit of Matt Bradley -- talks a great deal describing the situation and other bits that sound salient, but doesn't disclose any information about how to get in touch with her.
My dream person talks to other people after this conversation, but none of them will give me information about how to get in touch with Joan. It's not clear to me whether they simply don't know how or whether they're holding back that information.
I made a few more notes, but they're unfortunately illegible.
After the frustration about getting in touch with Joan, I walk out a side or back door (i.e., not the front door) to the school building and find myself at the top of a fairly steep grassy hill. It's beautiful outside and feels wonderful to stop thinking and worrying about getting in touch with Joan. There are steps built into the grass-covered grounds -- each one separate from the others. They're rather rounded on the front edge, which fits in so nicely with the surrounding area.
Tuesday, April 7, 2020
Friday, April 3, 2020
Bad Dream 117 -- Morning of 4/2/20
A couple of things affecting this report:
-- it happened two mornings ago, so details will have evaporated, and
-- at this point in time, we're still flailing away at understanding what the novel Coronavirus is all about. As the infection and death rates start to climb alarmingly. We get conflicting reports from reputable sources and absolute blather from the Lizard King. But here goes.
In my dream, I am in a room which functions both as a classroom and as a laboratory. I am here as an adult student along with maybe a dozen other adult students. My dream tells me I know them, but I don't think that "knowing" extended back into my waking life. That is, I don't remember seeing Tommy or Kurt or Ron from my waking life.
The class has been regrettably extended into a "double period," which means that this session is twice as long as usual. We're almost through with the first half of this doubled session, but it feels like there's not a lot of material left for the teacher to elaborate on or teach about.
The teacher is explaining something about a small paint sprayer -- it may be like a typical spray can of Rustoleum or somesuch. As a demonstration, she sprays a number of lines of paint on a sample piece of flat plastic or metal -- maybe four inches wide and ten or twelve inches long. The material is an off-white, grayish color and the paint is a medium-darkish green. The paint sprays on in lines and the lines of paint leave a goodly amount of unpainted surface between them. She is talking about what a smooth finished surface this will look like -- and I don't see any way that will happen, given the extensive unpainted surfaces between the lines of paint. I am astonished somewhat later to see that the dried painted surface is in fact perfectly covered with the green paint. A masterful job.
Since there isn't anything assigned by the teacher and she isn't doing any more presentations, the other students pick up newspapers or magazines and start reading. They are clearly bored.
I, on the other hand, try to keep looking busy on classroom stuff, but I'm just making stuff up and don't really have a plan other than looking busy. As I do this, I realize -- not for the first time -- that I don't really belong in this class. I don't fit. But I really wish I did. If I don't fit here, is there any place any where that I might fit?
I walk over to a very utilitarian-looking table which is just four legs, a top surface of unfinished plywood and a second level of the same material underneath -- maybe halfway between the top surface (which has a few unidentifiable things on it) and the floor. On this second level is an aluminum tray maybe fourteen inches by eighteen inches with sides maybe an inch or so all the way around. On this tray is the face of a gorilla. I can't tell whether it is a carved piece of wood or a mask or actually the face of a gorilla which somehow has been removed and placed on the tray. As I look at it, the tray seems to rotate slowly, spinning on the plywood surface, and/or moving slightly from side to side. I'm amazed and wondering what this thing is. I think I wouldn't be surprised if it started moving its eyes and mouth...
I had been bent over somewhat to get a closer look at the gorilla face, but now I stand up straight and start looking around for someone to explain what this thing on the tray truly is. As I turn around, I see Henry Kissinger standing behind me. He's been watching me and seems to understand my curiosity about the face. I don't have to say much or anything before he launches into an explanation. I can tell by the way he's getting into his "speech" that what he says will be somewhat lengthy and unarguably correct -- but it won't help in the least in understanding what that face really is.
I look back at the lower level of the table, but the face has disappeared.
I wake up.
-- it happened two mornings ago, so details will have evaporated, and
-- at this point in time, we're still flailing away at understanding what the novel Coronavirus is all about. As the infection and death rates start to climb alarmingly. We get conflicting reports from reputable sources and absolute blather from the Lizard King. But here goes.
In my dream, I am in a room which functions both as a classroom and as a laboratory. I am here as an adult student along with maybe a dozen other adult students. My dream tells me I know them, but I don't think that "knowing" extended back into my waking life. That is, I don't remember seeing Tommy or Kurt or Ron from my waking life.
The class has been regrettably extended into a "double period," which means that this session is twice as long as usual. We're almost through with the first half of this doubled session, but it feels like there's not a lot of material left for the teacher to elaborate on or teach about.
The teacher is explaining something about a small paint sprayer -- it may be like a typical spray can of Rustoleum or somesuch. As a demonstration, she sprays a number of lines of paint on a sample piece of flat plastic or metal -- maybe four inches wide and ten or twelve inches long. The material is an off-white, grayish color and the paint is a medium-darkish green. The paint sprays on in lines and the lines of paint leave a goodly amount of unpainted surface between them. She is talking about what a smooth finished surface this will look like -- and I don't see any way that will happen, given the extensive unpainted surfaces between the lines of paint. I am astonished somewhat later to see that the dried painted surface is in fact perfectly covered with the green paint. A masterful job.
Since there isn't anything assigned by the teacher and she isn't doing any more presentations, the other students pick up newspapers or magazines and start reading. They are clearly bored.
I, on the other hand, try to keep looking busy on classroom stuff, but I'm just making stuff up and don't really have a plan other than looking busy. As I do this, I realize -- not for the first time -- that I don't really belong in this class. I don't fit. But I really wish I did. If I don't fit here, is there any place any where that I might fit?
I walk over to a very utilitarian-looking table which is just four legs, a top surface of unfinished plywood and a second level of the same material underneath -- maybe halfway between the top surface (which has a few unidentifiable things on it) and the floor. On this second level is an aluminum tray maybe fourteen inches by eighteen inches with sides maybe an inch or so all the way around. On this tray is the face of a gorilla. I can't tell whether it is a carved piece of wood or a mask or actually the face of a gorilla which somehow has been removed and placed on the tray. As I look at it, the tray seems to rotate slowly, spinning on the plywood surface, and/or moving slightly from side to side. I'm amazed and wondering what this thing is. I think I wouldn't be surprised if it started moving its eyes and mouth...
I had been bent over somewhat to get a closer look at the gorilla face, but now I stand up straight and start looking around for someone to explain what this thing on the tray truly is. As I turn around, I see Henry Kissinger standing behind me. He's been watching me and seems to understand my curiosity about the face. I don't have to say much or anything before he launches into an explanation. I can tell by the way he's getting into his "speech" that what he says will be somewhat lengthy and unarguably correct -- but it won't help in the least in understanding what that face really is.
I look back at the lower level of the table, but the face has disappeared.
I wake up.
Monday, March 30, 2020
Bad Dream 116 -- Morning of 3/30/20
In my dream, I am standing in a room -- it feels like a room in an apartment. There are two other people with me: one switches back and forth from being my sister Martha to being my wife Deb. The other person is a male Unidentifiable.
Looking around I see a huge beetle sitting on the side of what looks like a large audio speaker. It's just sitting there. It's a shiny black -- and it's the size of the palm of your hand. It has a pair of large black pincers on the front. It may be moving back and forth ever so slightly...
I find it charming, but know that the other two people in the room probably won't. I'm not sure how I can get this critter outdoors, but I know that would be the best thing for the three people and the one arthropod.
Deb/Martha is moving around in the room and I don't want her to get spooked when she sees this. So I decide it's best if I tell her about it and show her where it's located at the moment. Bad decision. She freaks out and moves away from it.
(I may at this point in the dream consider how to get my camera ready to take a shot or two before I escort the animal outside. Not sure -- but it is something I probably would do!)
Between Martha/Deb's rapid movement and maybe some movement on my part, the bug takes off. Across the floor (I think) and up the far wall. It stops roughly in the middle of the wall -- which almost feels like an invitation to stop over and trap it for escort outside.
(The way we normally trap a bug to get it out of the house is to take an appropriate sized glass or cup and gently place it over the animal, then slide a card or stiff piece of paper underneath to form a closed container. And then simply take the container outside and leave it there for a while. But this bug is so large that it wouldn't fit inside a full-size water glass, much less anything smaller.)
I walk slowly over to the animal and call for Deb/Martha to find a jar that would be large enough. I have to repeat this request several times, getting more impatient every time I do so. Martha/Deb finally understands what I need and starts looking around for an appropriate vessel. She says she's found something that should work, but brings over a plastic bag -- a flimsy piece of plastic like a trash can liner.
I'm concerned that, even if we were successful in getting the animal into the bag that we would likely damage it as we carried it outside. But I didn't have any better ideas. So Deb/Martha stands a bit behind the animal but close to the wall and spreads the bag open and places the edge of the opening tight against the wall. Hey, maybe this will actually work!
But we move too fast or something, and the bug takes off again. We see it scuttle along the wall (a remarkable feat for a bug that big!) and disappear.
Looking around I see a huge beetle sitting on the side of what looks like a large audio speaker. It's just sitting there. It's a shiny black -- and it's the size of the palm of your hand. It has a pair of large black pincers on the front. It may be moving back and forth ever so slightly...
I find it charming, but know that the other two people in the room probably won't. I'm not sure how I can get this critter outdoors, but I know that would be the best thing for the three people and the one arthropod.
Deb/Martha is moving around in the room and I don't want her to get spooked when she sees this. So I decide it's best if I tell her about it and show her where it's located at the moment. Bad decision. She freaks out and moves away from it.
(I may at this point in the dream consider how to get my camera ready to take a shot or two before I escort the animal outside. Not sure -- but it is something I probably would do!)
Between Martha/Deb's rapid movement and maybe some movement on my part, the bug takes off. Across the floor (I think) and up the far wall. It stops roughly in the middle of the wall -- which almost feels like an invitation to stop over and trap it for escort outside.
(The way we normally trap a bug to get it out of the house is to take an appropriate sized glass or cup and gently place it over the animal, then slide a card or stiff piece of paper underneath to form a closed container. And then simply take the container outside and leave it there for a while. But this bug is so large that it wouldn't fit inside a full-size water glass, much less anything smaller.)
I walk slowly over to the animal and call for Deb/Martha to find a jar that would be large enough. I have to repeat this request several times, getting more impatient every time I do so. Martha/Deb finally understands what I need and starts looking around for an appropriate vessel. She says she's found something that should work, but brings over a plastic bag -- a flimsy piece of plastic like a trash can liner.
I'm concerned that, even if we were successful in getting the animal into the bag that we would likely damage it as we carried it outside. But I didn't have any better ideas. So Deb/Martha stands a bit behind the animal but close to the wall and spreads the bag open and places the edge of the opening tight against the wall. Hey, maybe this will actually work!
But we move too fast or something, and the bug takes off again. We see it scuttle along the wall (a remarkable feat for a bug that big!) and disappear.
Sunday, March 15, 2020
Bad Dream 115 -- Morning of 3/15/20
My dream involves only two people: myself and my younger brother Warren. I don't recall any unrecognizables or other people, but read on...
In my dream, Warren and I are in a room of some kind. I don't recall any details about walls, size of room, etc. Except that I don't think we are in some kind of oversize hall. There are walls not that far away.
Warren is telling me about a creature he has experienced. The creature -- which is bipedal like humans -- comes out of the shadows, does or says something, and then disappears. (It's not clear to me now whether this creature needs to move back into shadow or whether it just evaporates -- to reappear at some other time and place. Maybe both. So it can travel undetected from one shadowed place to another.) My notes describe this as a "mythical creature."
According to Warren (and my notes), the creature represents an "existential threat" to him and maybe to me as well. This isn't clear.
So Warren knows some stuff about this creature, but doesn't know how to destroy it or just make it go away and stop bothering/threatening him. It seems to be important to Warren that I understand what's going on with regard to this creature.
My notes indicate that "Warren takes the lead" in this understanding and whatever we need to do about this.
There then are a few fleeting recollections of being somewhere without Warren and having the creature emerge out of a fold in some full-length curtains or the darkened corner of the room. It comes at me snarling, but while this is disturbing, I know that it can't hurt me in this setting. But maybe it could in a different setting. This feels like it's being presented to me (the real me) as proof that this creature really exists and isn't just a figment of Warren's imagination.
The scene changes. Warren and I are now located at a busy highway. We are standing on the triangle created by an on-ramp merging with the rest of the highway. Warren continues to be wary about his surroundings and the possible appearance of the creature. I'm anxious about where we're standing in regards to the traffic. Both off the entrance ramp and traffic driving on the highway, it doesn't miss us by very much. And Warren and I are moving around slightly -- and might possibly accidentally get into the way of the traffic. Warren continues to tell me things about the creature.
(Reading over my notes about this dream, I see the terms "Mythical Creature" and "Existential Threat.")
In my dream, Warren and I are in a room of some kind. I don't recall any details about walls, size of room, etc. Except that I don't think we are in some kind of oversize hall. There are walls not that far away.
Warren is telling me about a creature he has experienced. The creature -- which is bipedal like humans -- comes out of the shadows, does or says something, and then disappears. (It's not clear to me now whether this creature needs to move back into shadow or whether it just evaporates -- to reappear at some other time and place. Maybe both. So it can travel undetected from one shadowed place to another.) My notes describe this as a "mythical creature."
According to Warren (and my notes), the creature represents an "existential threat" to him and maybe to me as well. This isn't clear.
So Warren knows some stuff about this creature, but doesn't know how to destroy it or just make it go away and stop bothering/threatening him. It seems to be important to Warren that I understand what's going on with regard to this creature.
My notes indicate that "Warren takes the lead" in this understanding and whatever we need to do about this.
There then are a few fleeting recollections of being somewhere without Warren and having the creature emerge out of a fold in some full-length curtains or the darkened corner of the room. It comes at me snarling, but while this is disturbing, I know that it can't hurt me in this setting. But maybe it could in a different setting. This feels like it's being presented to me (the real me) as proof that this creature really exists and isn't just a figment of Warren's imagination.
The scene changes. Warren and I are now located at a busy highway. We are standing on the triangle created by an on-ramp merging with the rest of the highway. Warren continues to be wary about his surroundings and the possible appearance of the creature. I'm anxious about where we're standing in regards to the traffic. Both off the entrance ramp and traffic driving on the highway, it doesn't miss us by very much. And Warren and I are moving around slightly -- and might possibly accidentally get into the way of the traffic. Warren continues to tell me things about the creature.
(Reading over my notes about this dream, I see the terms "Mythical Creature" and "Existential Threat.")
Thursday, March 5, 2020
Bad Dream 114 -- Morning of 3/5/20
This was an intense but broken up dream I had this morning shortly before waking up. It has several scenes.
Scene 1: I don't remember much from this part, except just being in a place that nourished me deeply. And I felt it important to "drink it in" as much as I could, since things were likely to change.
Scene 2: In this part of my dream, I am standing in a compartment of a railroad train, which is moving. The car swings gently a bit from side to side but doesn't cause me to concern myself about my balance. I am changing clothes -- I'm sure I'm changing pants and shirt, but not sure it goes to skivvies or sox. There is a chance that someone may come through the door that connects this car to the next one and my activities would certainly surprise them. It might be a bit embarrassing -- depending on how far I was into the process of changing clothes -- but nothing worse than that.
I'm not pleased or happy to be changing clothes, but not that upset. My first set of clothes are not necessarily dirty or smelly -- it's just that I am required somehow to change clothes.
I think this clothes changing is related to Scene 3.
Scene 3: In this scene I am in this space mentioned in Scene 1. I am outside, near a large body of water. The air is warm and pleasant. The sun is shining, but not unpleasantly bright. There is/are a few boats out on the water -- fairly far out so I can't make out any details about them. There are a few people also enjoying the space and time -- but none of them are close enough to me that I might interact with or overhear them.
I have this growing sense of sadness as I walk slowly around this area that I love so much. I keep saying in my mind: "I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave." But I know that leaving is inevitable. As in the first scene, I do everything I can to drink in and hold memories, details of this wonderful place...
...knowing that once I go it will be unlikely or impossible to return.
Meaning? I am on the verge of changing several important parts in my life -- none of which I look forward to, but all of which seem to be inevitable. I can't tell if this dream is a reflection of one of these partings or several or all of them combined.
This includes my relationship to my Quaker Meeting, the Turks Head Jugglers, performing my juggling and/or my dinosaur talks, relocating from 419 W. Union, my gradual decline in physical health and strength, realizing that I am in the crosshairs of this COVID-19 virus given my age and medical history.
Scene 1: I don't remember much from this part, except just being in a place that nourished me deeply. And I felt it important to "drink it in" as much as I could, since things were likely to change.
Scene 2: In this part of my dream, I am standing in a compartment of a railroad train, which is moving. The car swings gently a bit from side to side but doesn't cause me to concern myself about my balance. I am changing clothes -- I'm sure I'm changing pants and shirt, but not sure it goes to skivvies or sox. There is a chance that someone may come through the door that connects this car to the next one and my activities would certainly surprise them. It might be a bit embarrassing -- depending on how far I was into the process of changing clothes -- but nothing worse than that.
I'm not pleased or happy to be changing clothes, but not that upset. My first set of clothes are not necessarily dirty or smelly -- it's just that I am required somehow to change clothes.
I think this clothes changing is related to Scene 3.
Scene 3: In this scene I am in this space mentioned in Scene 1. I am outside, near a large body of water. The air is warm and pleasant. The sun is shining, but not unpleasantly bright. There is/are a few boats out on the water -- fairly far out so I can't make out any details about them. There are a few people also enjoying the space and time -- but none of them are close enough to me that I might interact with or overhear them.
I have this growing sense of sadness as I walk slowly around this area that I love so much. I keep saying in my mind: "I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave." But I know that leaving is inevitable. As in the first scene, I do everything I can to drink in and hold memories, details of this wonderful place...
...knowing that once I go it will be unlikely or impossible to return.
Meaning? I am on the verge of changing several important parts in my life -- none of which I look forward to, but all of which seem to be inevitable. I can't tell if this dream is a reflection of one of these partings or several or all of them combined.
This includes my relationship to my Quaker Meeting, the Turks Head Jugglers, performing my juggling and/or my dinosaur talks, relocating from 419 W. Union, my gradual decline in physical health and strength, realizing that I am in the crosshairs of this COVID-19 virus given my age and medical history.
Saturday, February 29, 2020
Bad Dream 113 -- Morning of 2/29/20
This dream was unusual(?) in that it had two definite "scenes" with a common story:
In my dream, I am in a small room with someone remindful of Teacher Brian Fahey, a woman who is a Holocaust survivor, and several unrecognizables. We are planning a trap.
The woman, who is small and frail, feels that there is a student in a class being taught nearby who took part in perpetrating the Holocaust -- and needs to be called out. She is ready to take part in springing the trap and, somewhere between Brian and myself, we're supposed to set up the trap.
The trap consists of starting a conversation about WWII and then bringing the subject around to the Holocaust, concentration camps and related issues. If we create and execute the trap correctly, the student will identify himself as having been a participant. (It's not clear to me what happens after that. Will the culprit be arrested?)
So the details of the trap are not clear to me, but I have faith in the woman and Brian that they understand what's going on and that they will lay and then spring the trap. So it's not clear at this point in the dream exactly what it is they expect me to do -- to play my part.
The scene now shifts to the classroom where the action is supposed to take place. The students -- there are somewhere between 15 and 30 of them -- are in their seats. Somehow, I know the target of the trap. He's larger than the other students -- and looks like he's physically powerful. His clothes are a bit rough and he could use a haircut. (His hair is black and wavy-to-curly.) He's wearing a flannel shirt (I think) with the sleeves rolled up. He's also wearing a look of casual disdain.
I am standing in front of the class and the woman is seated up front with her chair looking out at the students. She looks implacable.
Brian is nowhere to be seen.
Everyone is expecting me to conduct the class -- maybe just until Brian shows up, I don't know. I was fully expecting Brian to take the lead in setting up this trap and I'm struggling to figure out how to begin. Whatever I say or do may initiate the plan or screw it up entirely. I understand we only have one chance to make this work.
I pause for a few moments, hoping Brian is planning on making a dramatic entrance -- and taking over the presentation and the trap. No such luck...
The students -- including our target -- are staring at me rather impassively, as if to say, "We're okay with not doing anything if you're simply planning on not doing anything." Time is moving along and the success of our planned trap seems to be in jeopardy. (Did I miss something in our earlier discussions? Will Brian make any kind of appearance at all? Will the Holocaust survivor say or do anything? Is she just waiting for me to start the plan?)
I start to ask the class something like, "What are your recollections of WWII?" but stop when I remember that students this age weren't even alive back then. So I change the sentence to something like, "What do you remember being told about WWII?" No response from the students.
I look at our target. He doesn't give any impression of being aware of our plan. So if we/I can figure out how to start, we still might have a successful outcome to our planned trap.
I look off to the sides to see if there's any sign of Brian.
There isn't.
In my dream, I am in a small room with someone remindful of Teacher Brian Fahey, a woman who is a Holocaust survivor, and several unrecognizables. We are planning a trap.
The woman, who is small and frail, feels that there is a student in a class being taught nearby who took part in perpetrating the Holocaust -- and needs to be called out. She is ready to take part in springing the trap and, somewhere between Brian and myself, we're supposed to set up the trap.
The trap consists of starting a conversation about WWII and then bringing the subject around to the Holocaust, concentration camps and related issues. If we create and execute the trap correctly, the student will identify himself as having been a participant. (It's not clear to me what happens after that. Will the culprit be arrested?)
So the details of the trap are not clear to me, but I have faith in the woman and Brian that they understand what's going on and that they will lay and then spring the trap. So it's not clear at this point in the dream exactly what it is they expect me to do -- to play my part.
The scene now shifts to the classroom where the action is supposed to take place. The students -- there are somewhere between 15 and 30 of them -- are in their seats. Somehow, I know the target of the trap. He's larger than the other students -- and looks like he's physically powerful. His clothes are a bit rough and he could use a haircut. (His hair is black and wavy-to-curly.) He's wearing a flannel shirt (I think) with the sleeves rolled up. He's also wearing a look of casual disdain.
I am standing in front of the class and the woman is seated up front with her chair looking out at the students. She looks implacable.
Brian is nowhere to be seen.
Everyone is expecting me to conduct the class -- maybe just until Brian shows up, I don't know. I was fully expecting Brian to take the lead in setting up this trap and I'm struggling to figure out how to begin. Whatever I say or do may initiate the plan or screw it up entirely. I understand we only have one chance to make this work.
I pause for a few moments, hoping Brian is planning on making a dramatic entrance -- and taking over the presentation and the trap. No such luck...
The students -- including our target -- are staring at me rather impassively, as if to say, "We're okay with not doing anything if you're simply planning on not doing anything." Time is moving along and the success of our planned trap seems to be in jeopardy. (Did I miss something in our earlier discussions? Will Brian make any kind of appearance at all? Will the Holocaust survivor say or do anything? Is she just waiting for me to start the plan?)
I start to ask the class something like, "What are your recollections of WWII?" but stop when I remember that students this age weren't even alive back then. So I change the sentence to something like, "What do you remember being told about WWII?" No response from the students.
I look at our target. He doesn't give any impression of being aware of our plan. So if we/I can figure out how to start, we still might have a successful outcome to our planned trap.
I look off to the sides to see if there's any sign of Brian.
There isn't.
Friday, January 24, 2020
Bad Dream 112 -- Morning of 1/22/20
This dream came to me several mornings ago, so it's a little short on details:
In my dream, I am in a teaching position -- not well defined. And I'm standing in an open area -- also not well defined.
I have two people standing near me, who seem to be students of mine, but that too is not well defined. One of these two people is Ricky Coburn and the other is an Unidentifiable.
In any case, I am teaching something as a conduit from some other source. The material is not mine but I seem to be pretty comfortable teaching what I've been told -- somehow -- to teach.
The two students seem to be paying close attention to what I've been saying, and it is time to change the subject. I tell them that the next thing I want them to do is to cut open a finger and slice it almost all the way through.
The cut I'm imagining would be on the left index finger and take place on the first joint with the cut running parallel to the bone. The objective is to cut through the skin and muscle without cutting through the skin on the other side. This would show the skill of the person doing the cutting, as he/she knew exactly how deep to cut.
My students didn't respond negatively to this suggestion. It's just something else the "teacher" is recommending that they do.
I guess that I was returning to conscious life around this time, because I began to doubt seriously the wisdom of doing this. That, even if the incision were performed extremely well, the recovery time would be quite lengthy -- and if the incision were not well done, it could result in permanent damage to the finger. I recall being surprised -- at this point in the dream -- that my two students didn't recoil quickly from the idea. I wondered why...
(NOTE: Ricky Coburn and his family lived quite close to us when I was growing up on Wilson Point. [Interesting also that this dream took place not far in time to the dream about the young boy crushed by the weird elevator. That dream also had a reference to Wilson Point.] We were the same age and were usually in the same class through high school. We were never friends. He was pretty smart but not, I think, as smart as I was. I celebrated the cerebral in life while he wanted to be an important part of our High School's social scene. Ricky had an older brother [Rusty] who was the same age as my older brother [Richard]. I recall that their relationship was downright antagonistic.)
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