A Fork in the Road

Desert Road (Without Permission)

 Las Vegas at last! We went to visit my brother last night, having a late dinner at Denny’s - he reminded us we could have the 55+ items on the menu. Score one for my big bro! Dropped him home and back to our Airbnb.

    Jet lag and all, we stayed up till 10:30 to try and adjust. I was exhausted. Strange bed and sleep wasn’t coming easy. When I managed to get comfortable, I would pop up awake. Maybe it was anxiety that was keeping me from sleeping. Random images were flashing through my head, nothing concrete that I could hold on to. The dream engine was raring to go. 

I entered a dream about being here.

Subconsciously, I picked up on the homeless situation here - my brother had mentioned the concrete river bed where they reside. He went on to say that Las Vegas was prone to flooding because of the Caliche being hydrophobic and the water has no where to go. The authorities have to evict the homeless when there is a chance of flooding. This is the second location based dream I’ve had this year.

    We were inside the Airbnb, I decide to stretch my legs outside and overhear trouble coming from the homeless encampment behind the fence. Women and men are screaming bloody murder. My only fear was that the action would spill beyond the fence. I hear objects crashing, belongings being used as projectiles. It’s early morning and most of the camp isn’t awake, this is a battle between hostile neighbors. Soon it seems the whole camp has erupted into insanity. I’m watching from a safe distance - a missing plank in the fence gives me a voyeuristic view. Two men are grappling and make the mistake of falling into a tent. The occupant had been asleep. A roar erupts from the shredded canopy. Both bodies fly off - tossed like babies (not dwarfs) out emerges a giant of a muscular specimen. He was buck-naked. This African American man must have been the camp leader, if not, maybe an enforcer. The action becomes too much for me, I didn’t want to become involved. I back off and enter our temporary place to tell my wife what was going on outside.

    Later, things died down. Feeling safe to go out again - I plan a solo trek into the mountains. Walking in a canyon, I follow the trailhead - enjoying the exercise and scenery. After some time I come across a set of three divergent paths carved out of the dirt. Confused - my choices were to head further up a mountain, straight across the easy path or journey downward into the valley below. Making up my mind, I head upward. Not nearly the obvious choice, the climb is getting harder, steep and dangerous. I’m hit with slight vertigo and my fear of heights kick in. The steep path narrowed. My mind is in a panic, this is too much. A realization comes to me. Another voice, probably my own or subconsciously I hear the words “The path not taken.” Not remembering where I hear the similar phrase, brings me out of the dream. 

    I had to look it up just now while writing - Robert Frost “The Road Not Taken” from English literature in Catholic school…

    A shorter dream begins after I fall back to sleep. I was walking with a woman dressed in beautiful silk robes, the styles worn in Japan. She was in-fact Japanese, a slight woman barely 5’4” and inch or more added by the traditional sandals or “Geta”, her pale skin meant she avoided the direct sunlight. The day was overcast as we traveled over a stone path. She didn’t have a parasol, and we traveled silently. I felt like a chaperone or advisor - someone in charge of keeping the Princess safe. Our pace was measured as if trying not to expend much energy. She begins to point out her favorite things to see outside, the trees, flowers, and birds… her foot catches a loose stone on the path. My hands clasped behind my back, looking up where she last pointed - I was too late to catch her. Although her weight was maybe seventy-five pounds, she crashed forward painfully hard. I bent down to the Princess lifting her scratched and bleeding forehead and cheek, I was forbidden to look for other injuries. In a faint, or knocked clean out, the Princess didn’t respond to my pleas to wake up. My fate is sealed - her wellbeing was my responsibility. Death would come for me after public admonishment by the Emperor. I pick the stricken Princess up and run back along the path, hoping to save her life and toward the end of mine.

I wake up.

    The new moon is teaching me things, just like the full one. I was becoming dependent on the brighter phases for guidance on this dream journey. I have no connection to Japan - my DNA has no Asian in it. I’m not a “Japanophile” unless you count Godzilla movies. Something about the ancient world of Japan keeps coming through at times. My subconscious mind keeps feeding me things from that far off land.

Oykasuminasai

Good Night