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110 DREAMS IN 99 DAYS

110 dreams in 99 days

LIFE, ONE SUMMER

JOURNAL

1998

 

SCHOPENHAUER, IN HIS SPLENDID ESSAY CALLED ” an apparent intention in the fate of an individual,” POINTS OUT THAT WHEN YOU REACH AN ADVANCED AGE AND LOOK BACK OVER YOUR LIFETIME, IT CAN SEEM TO HAVE HAD A CONSISTENT ORDER AND PLAN, AS THOUGH COMPOSED BY SOME NOVELIST.  Events that when they occurred had seemed accidental and of little moment turn out to have been indispensable factors in the compositon of a consistent plot.  so who composed that plot?  Schopenhauer suggests that just as your dreams are composed by an aspect of yourself of which your consciousness is unaware, so, too, your whole life is composed by the will within you.  And just as people whom you will have met APPARENTLY by mere chance became leading agents in the structuring of your life, so, too, will you have served unknowingly as an agent, giving meaning to the lives of others.  The whole thing gears together like one big symphony, with EVERYTHING unconsciously structuring everything else.  And schopenhauer concludes that it is as though our lives were the features of the one great dream of a single dreamer in which all the dream characters dream, too,  so that EVERYTHING links to everything else, moved by the one will to life which is the universal will in nature.

joseph campbell-the power of myth

 CAPRICORN HOROSCOPE-/rob brezny

Of course you can never make anything that will last forever.  That’s one of the unfair rules in the game of life.  But this week you will most likely start work on an opus that will ultimately last for a long, long time.  Choose your masterpiece wisely, O Creator.  Try to be motivated not by greed or the desire to make an impression, but by a yearning to give God Pleasure.  I predict that when the first human settlements are built on the moon some years hence, you’ll still be nourished by – or stuck with – the fruits of the seeds you plant now.

Dream #1 – Wednesday May 6, 1998

#  GM PONDS

I take my brother-in-law S. and a friend to this special lake.  it reminds me of one of the Metroparks,first it seems older, like Stony Creek and the way it’s laid out with numerous small picnic areas and beaches.

The setup for this dream comes from a very comfortable time in my life.  I’m not young though it’s no place I’ve ever been,  At or old, but I haven’t really been to any Metropark in at least 10 years. Stony Creek was a way of life for a solid 10-11 years of my life.  I lived for the beach. 

We pass the opening trail and the park reveals into three huge, beautiful, sparkling blue pools, all linked to supposedly be the GM symbol.   I wonder, “what will be in the third circle?”

adored the sun and the flesh and the muscles and the beer.  I spent many, many days languidly lounging, literally.  I could go for days in a row, first sun to sundown.  I had rode bikes,much more than I had ever been at work (or anywhere else.)

As I look closer I see the vague outlines of the G and then the M.I’m carrying the round bar from my basement on this trail.  The whole family as well as other friends are there at various times.  It is early A.M.

The beach represents a laid back warmth – fun in the sun.  I lay; in the sun all over the world, from Cannes to Nice to Monte Carlo to Maui, Atlanta, Sarasota, Virginia and Myrtle Beach, Lake Michigan to Slippery Rock, Arizona.   I love the sound of the sea.

We walk down the trail next to these three equally-sized, yet differently-shaped ponds of blue water.  It was almost as blue as the water around Maui, but more turquoise.Absolutely beautiful!

S. is with me because he is all I have as a brother, a real one.  We walk together with a third stranger, a trinity of present, past and future-unknown. The various pools are my pools of thought/disciplines, talent pools, gene pool.  The General Motors logo, right now, has me puzzled.  Maybe by the end of this evaluation I’ll have that figured out.  The GM might stand so large because it currently keeps me pretty well employed. It is my money pool.  I’m stuck, also, on why the third section of it, has three letters

To my left is the changing area.  It is a few shelves and benches, out in the open.  We change as soon as we get there and I hurry to pull on pants because I notice my butt stinks. I put my stuff on a shelf behind us.We have to hurry to catch a boat to various activities.  Some people go out to snorkel, some to surf of swim – whatever. A group of old ladies sit in this “box-on-its-side” kind of ferry which (IDL). takes everyone from here to the big boat.  It has a pool liner lining, light blue plastic.

I’m not clear on the outline of the letters just as I’m not sure of where GM fits into my life.  I believe the three pools should really be the three things I’m heavily involved in – video, training and writing, (in opposite order of importance).  Those represent the three key areas –strengths – of my personal life.  Technical writing is present but it’s outlook is fuzzy.

We haven’t chosen an activity.  The women – Barb, Maureen, someone else, bring pastries of all types all made with greenish blue frosting.  It’s easily clear the girls are all already drunk, giggling, slurring and falling over.  The cakes seem to be spiced too as someone takes a bite of one right off the platter.  I decide not to have any.We are inside watching mountain bikers and rollerbladers edge to this steep cliff on TV.

The bar is self-explanatory; it’s the burden of my past, a giant anchor which I keep choosing to drag around.  The alcohol of my father is heavy, burdensome; and also all the toxic crap I feel I must keep carting around on my karma. Early A.M. is the dawn of a new day.  I am the leader, though it’s evident my shit does stink, much as it did- I now recall,  as a young child growing up.  the nudity is a comfort level, a revealing, a sense of freedom, pride, self-confidence as well as the simile that something lies rotten beneath.  “Blow it out your ass” as my father would say.  While Mom always said, “Self-praise stinks.” 

It is a large screen with almost a three-dimensional feel to the picture.  The rock and cliffs are very realistic and dominate the feel of the dream frame.  It’s an activity that has not yet been set up, staked out, chartered.  But they are going for it anyway, feeling their way down this cliff before attempting to ride down it.  They have a huge, wide-framed trailer painted purple and made of wood which one guy tows behind him on a bicycle.  I say something like, “how’d you like to tow that around?”

The pools are an important trinity.  That they are blue reveals the depth of their truth.They could stand for SST, for father, son, spirit; for father, son, brother; but their similarity is important because it shows the natural purity of 3 aspects of my life – body, mind, spirit.  It could mean past, present, and of course, fuzzy future.  GM could be Good Man!  It could be Giant Muscles! Who knows? It could be God Made!

The people I’m with keep changing. I tell S. at one time, “You’d never find a place like this in Kalamazoo.”  Though I’m with groups of friends I’m always alone, not a part of them. I don’t seem to mind but I’m never doing what everyone else is, though I’m right next  them.

I must “change” from the “anal” stinker I’ve been.  Sure, I’m proud of my body, sure of my nature, but something is coming up rotten from behind.  Being with S. is important toward my bodybuilding/fitness training with people.  S. was my first client.  I led him from the skinny kid he was. 

            At this time in May my determination was focused on putting together a weight program for the high school. 

            The boat I must hurry to catch is my ticket from the mundane.  I must immerse myself in the water sports.  The box/boat represents my float tank, often referred to and associated with a “think tank”, but also an “isolation” or “deprivation” tank too.  It is on its side, spilled, not in the form it was made for but being used now as a simple transport for old ladies – old ideas – again, a spilled box populated with the past instead of possibility.  My thinking is off, tipped, and my ideas are running out the side.

            The women are my wife’s friends, but they’ve long since lost their appeal to me because they may be sweet like pastries but they’re no longer tarts which make my mouth water.  The food choice, the drunkenness, no longer appeal to me either.  I want non.  The slovenly habit of eating off the plate shows how everything is a given in their lives, but something I don’t care for.

EValuation:  (IN ITS ENTIRETY)

            The setup for this dream comes from a very comfortable time in my life.  I’m not young or old, but I haven’t really been to any Metropark in at least 10 years. 

            Stony Creek was a way of life for a solid 10-11 years of my life.  I lived for the beach.  I adored the sun and the flesh and the muscles and the beer.  I spent many, many days languidly lounging, literally.  I could go for days in a row, first sun to sundown.  I had rode bikes, lounging, literally.  I could go for days in a row, first sun to sundown.  I had rode bikes,

much more than I had ever been at work (or anywhere else.)

            The beach represents a laid back warmth – fun in the sun.  I lay; in the sun all over the world, from Cannes to Nice to Monte Carlo to Maui, Atlanta, Sarasota, Virginia and Myrtle Beach, Lake Michigan to Slippery Rock, Arizona.   I love the sound of the sea.

            Steve is with me because he is all I have as a brother, a real one.  We walk together with a third stranger, a trinity of present, past and future-unknown.  (This far and I’m still in the opening paragraph!)

            The various pools are my pools of thought/disciplines, talent pools, gene pool.  The General Motors logo, right now, has me puzzled.  Maybe by the end of this evaluation I’ll have that figured out.  The GM might stand so large because it currently keeps me pretty well employed. It is my money pool.  I’m stuck, also, on why the third section of it, has three letters (IDL).  I’m not clear on the outline of the letters just as I’m not sure of where GM fits into my life.  I believe the three pools should really be the three things I’m heavily involved in – video, training and writing, (in opposite order of importance).  Those represent the three key areas – strengths – of my personal life.  Technical writing is present but it’s outlook is fuzzy.

            The bar is self-explanatory; it’s the burden of my past, a giant anchor which I keep choosing to drag around.  The alcohol of my father is heavy, burdensome; and also all the toxic crap I feel I must keep carting around on my karma. 

            Early A.M. is the dawn of a new day.  I am the leader, though it’s evident my shit does stink, much as it did- I now recall,  as a young child growing up.  the nudity is a comfort level, a revealing, a sense of freedom, pride, self-confidence as well as the simile that something lies rotten beneath.  “Blow it out your ass” as my father would say.  While Mom always said, “Self-praise stinks.” 

            The pools are an important trinity.  That they are blue reveals the depth of their truth.  They could stand for SST, for father, son, spirit; for father, son, brother; but their similarity is important because it shows the natural purity of 3 aspects of my life – body, mind, spirit.  It could mean past, present, and of course, fuzzy future.  GM could be Good Man!  It could be Giant Muscles! Who knows? It could be God Made!

            I must “change” from the “anal” stinker I’ve been.  Sure, I’m proud of my body, sure of my nature, but something is coming up rotten from behind.  Being with Steve is important toward my bodybuilding/fitness training with people.  Steve was my first client.  I led him from the skinny kid he was. 

            At this time in May my determination was focused on putting together a weight program for the high school. 

            The boat I must hurry to catch is my ticket from the mundane.  I must immerse myself in the water sports.  The box/boat represents my float tank, often referred to and associated with a “think tank”, but also an “isolation” or “deprivation” tank too.  It is on its side, spilled, not in the form it was made for but being used now as a simple transport for old ladies – old ideas – again, a spilled box populated with the past instead of possibility.  My thinking is off, tipped, and my ideas are running out the side.

            The women are my wife’s friends, but they’ve long since lost their appeal to me because they may be sweet like pastries but they’re no longer tarts which make my mouth water.  The food choice, the drunkenness, no longer appeal to me either.  I want none.  The slovenly habit of eating off the plate shows how everything is a given in their lives, but something I don’t care for.  

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