State of Grace
My friend once told me that when I wake from a dream, and I try to remember what the dream was about, that I should pay less attention to what happened in the dream, and more attention to how I felt during the dream, and how I felt as soon as I woke up.
Every day, we deal with things—the alarm clock, the morning coffee, our clothes, our hair, the cellphone, the radio, what we ate for lunch. Most of the information on the Internet are about things, and I think most of the blogs have to do with things. Things are evaluated, discussed, and purchased according to their ratings on Amazon.com and Epinions. After they are purchased, they are discussed some more, compared, further rated after a certain time of use.
The other aspect we very often talk about are occurrences, what happened during which we were able to use the things that we acquired. Where did one go, what did one do over there, who did one socialize with, what kind of drama happened, did anyone meet anyone special, did anyone fall in love, did anyone get angry at someone, did anyone break up with whom, and how all of this changes the social structure of any given system.
During the acquisition and consumption of these things, and during these occurrences, our attitudes change, our feelings change, our regard for others as well as ourselves change. During any given day, any given moment, our states of mind are the results of things and occurrences. During any moment, our states of mind are at the whim of that moment. Are they?
My dream was in a chapel, and in the dream I am at the age I am now. We sat in the front row on the right side facing the altar. I sat next to my mother and father. I am an only child, and when I was young, whenever we went to mass, my father would sit on one side of my mother and I would sit on the other side. In a sense, the men protected the woman. We sat like this in the dream.
The chapel was bright, with the sunlight streaming in from the lightly stained glass windows. Near the front of the altar sat the church keeper. I don’t know what else to call him, but he reminded me of Hagrid from the Harry Potter movies. This church keeper, I’ll call him Hagrid from now on, also dressed in rags, but was skinnier and closer to the height of a normal human being.
In his hands and arms, Hagrid cradled a bouquet of gray, flat pasta. During the mass, he would take small handfuls of the pasta and eat it like chewing tobacco. The way Hagrid ate the pasta, it looked like it was delicious.
Halfway through the mass, during the time when offerings are made, Hagrid stood up and walked to my mother. Shifting the pasta so that he cradled it in his right arm, Hagrid reached into his left jacket pocket with his left hand and took out a large handful of cut pasta, which looked like communion bread, but square in shape. He placed the communion bread into my mother’s hands and told her, “Give this to the people.”
He then turned to me, and with his left hand, now empty, reached into the bouquet of cradled pasta, and took out a small handful, and gave it to me. His small handful of the gray, flat pasta became a huge handful as he placed it in my hands. He then told me, “This is for when you need it.”
As he walked away, I took a small bite of the pasta. Instead of a taste, I felt a feeling. The feeling was calm and full, overwhelming but controlled. After taking the smallest bite of it, I felt like I would never need to eat anything again. I felt fulfilled.
One of my dogs, Dixie, a black pomeranian, died recently from complications from old age. Within two weeks, and numerous doctor visits, her internal organs finally failed her. While she was alive, my family and I spoiled her with attention and treats, and never hesitated to spend whatever time and money were needed for proper medical care. We were hoping that at her death, she remembered us as doing our best to care for her while she was alive.
In the same dream, Dixie appeared to me. This time, she was blonde, like her younger brother Jazz, who is still with us. In the dream, she was a little younger and lot more active, barking and jumping like a wind-up toy, with a big smile on her face.
Maybe it’s not true, but I’d like to think she visited me in the dream, and told me that she’s okay now, and wanted to thank me and my family for taking care of her.
Although I do my best to be pragmatic, practical, I woke up from the dream one step closer to knowing that God exists. I woke up from the dream feeling invincible. As if all the things and occurrences and drama of every day life are just what they truly are, temporary. I woke up knowing that the only real constant worth striving for is a state of grace.