at one point, i was a worker at a starbucks or some random restaurant. i was to take a survey or something on an online computer or hovering touch pad with icons done in the same chalk drawings that restaurants typically make to display their daily specials. in the survey, i needed to identify my role in the store/restaurant: server? cook? and then, i was supposed to answer some sort of question, only now, i can't remember what it is. i sort of turned into this girl, who at first seemed a typical starbucks employee, only later it seemed as though she were both a waitress and a chef, taking orders and preparing the dishes. i recall her manning the burners. the dishes became somewhat elaborate, even turning into seafood, caught fresh...
"i" hovered through the store, and saw a group of black-clad youngish guys who were clearly into ninjitsu, judging by the tabis they were wearing. they were surrounding a wok? with fresh vegetables steaming. they opened the lid, thus ejecting all the collected steam. i warned them that each time they did that, their vegetables would take longer to prepare... as i was walking back, i noticed the tabis of one of these guys, all wet. and i had a thought, that if this guy wanted to, he could very well kick my ass. i didn't want trouble...
there then "appeared" a huge lobster tank. a man dressed as a samurai (actually, all of the people in the tank were dressed as samurai) was moving around inside the tank, dropping esa (bait) for the others, who were apparently lobsters. at the same time, however, he was stomping his feet loudly, so loudly that i was afraid that the bottom of the tank (which was glass, and raised) would shatter, and all the water would come rushing out...
in any case, the man seemed intent upon "training" the lobsters, by combining fear and love (i.e., feeding them). eventually, it worked, and the "lobsters" began bowing to the man. the man gave some kind of speech about wanting to train them to become samurai. all of a sudden, i noticed that above the "men", in the fishtank, were a bunch of samurai swords, hanging from above in their sheaths. the man took his sword, unsheathed it, and continued his lecture. for some reason, i thought his sword was dull; there was danger in carrying a truly sharp sword in this, which amounted to some kind of play...
in yet another sequence of the dream, perhaps a prequel: i dreamed of a quest, an objective, with a potential risk. for individuals deemed insane, or trapped within some "complex" or conundrum of the mind, notably with their eyes closed, a few compassionate individuals volunteered to venture within their thoughts and dreams, and attempt to pull them out of their states of varying catatonia, in order to shorten their time within their own private hells. i visualized the entrance into the mind as being a burrow (like a tunnel) that started from one eye, delved deep into the brain, and eventually ran out the other eye. the danger was that some souls were so sneaky that they would trap the volunteer, and escape themselves, thus leaving the helper to remain trapped within their dream, within their coma, for some unspecified time...
***
i have lost my dream, or had lost it, for quite some time. over this past week, which has been somewhat of a respite from many things, i have been somewhat like an empty vessel, caught on various wayward currents, with not a rudder nor captain to guide me. i slept a lot. i had no memorable/vivid dreams until the night before...
i think the world has two traps, both having to do with (in simple terms) matters of focus. both arise from a desire or need to keep moving, or to maintain the illusion of movement, of belonging. there is nothing that tempts mutiny so much as laying adrift purposeless in a boundless sea, after all. we are meant to be sailing this sea, conquering it, drawing our lines across its trackless expanse, discovering new things, transporting goods, be they slaves, or sugar, or cotton, or information...
in any case, one can be myopic and invent little things to accomplish, and once they are done, pretend that one has "done" something. or, one can choose no direction at all, appreciate the roundness of things, allow the world to penetrate into one (or be absorbed by the world); sure, you don't really get anywhere, but it gives you "perspective," right? i am oversimplifying things of course, but at present (this interminable present), i oscillate between the two, getting nowhere.
perhaps i am depressed, perhaps not, but it seems as though i have disconnected myself from the worldstream, and, at some level, disconnected myself from actively caring. maybe a bulb or fuse has burnt out, but, while attending to my daily responsibilities, i no longer receive any particular joy or gain from anything, nor a feeling of particular despair at not doing something else. i have realized that nothing i do really amounts to anything (no, this is not a "it's a wonderful life" issue; i do think that what i do has some meaning, in the sense of moving others to believe in themselves, helping others to feel happiness or learn something new... but it neither convinces ME nor the WORLD nor GOD in the least)...
you can't stab the ocean. you can't piss in the sea and leave a trace. everything dissolves and moves away and fades. if i try really hard, perhaps i can build an island, but i will have to pay for it with my life.
and for what?
***
to parenthood: you can train your children, you can appreciate them for what they already are. these are not two extremes, just as being a parent involves both loving them for what they are, and moving them to better themselves. no contradiction. in a sense, both are present as the plenitude within the moment. each moment is not a pearl in and of itself, with no connection to the stream of time. so too, each soul, when touched, has a past and a dream of a future. we don't just "bliss out" and appreciate a moment in its "moment-ness", it is always by its very nature here and gone. fleeting. to appreciate a child is to move it on its course, on its own momentum. honoring everything, pushing nothing particularly... at present, my vague dream is to prepare my kids for their respective grade levels, to get back to taijiquan training, to improve in data-collection and record-keeping as a teacher, and to basically heal the two year or so wound (if that) that has really gotten at my heart. healing, i realize, is an iteration. it's an experience of the other. if you don't incorporate it into your dialectic, then it remains as history repeating itself. my way is to understand it, and remain true to my motivations of helping others. i now know that i can't help anyone unless i am healed. a broken man, after all, has sharp and hidden edges, and each touch can cut unawares...
