Dream: The Attic Above God's Room
1:45 AM: The Attic Above God’s Room
I’m climbing a strange built-into-the-wall ladder, to get up to an attic room to get a hanger. It looks like an ordinary clothes hanger. I don’t know why it is significant. When I finally get all the way up there (it seems like I was fighting hard to avoid slipping down) and see the hanger, there is a little window overlooking a room, and there are two little, thin books in a tiny cut-to-fit slot in the wall. I know somehow that these are the Allilic Books – I take one out, a little slim brown paperback volume, and there is a picture on the front, of someone named T…. Allil (something like Tovah). I think they’re some sort of sacred Jewish texts. The room that I’m overlooking is God’s room. I realize that it’s not just a temple – this is like God’s personal space. There is some temple furniture, and the whole thing is a very stylized black and white treatment, with some brass and gold. Then, I slide back down the ladder, and I’m in the living room talking to my Mom, but it’s Chris’s mom… she says something about how she hates to climb up the ladder when she loses the hanger – she says, “I get my mouth cut.” It means something like being ticked off, or losing face.
Then, I’m with Chris in an old house. There is a man here who is cutting up steaks for us; it’s like he’s slicing a big section of beef into pieces for us to buy. We order several steaks, and then he has a section that he just kind of separates with his fingers – it looks like ribs, but smaller. He kind of puts that in the box with the rest, like it’s just a gift with the other purchase.
Then I want to fly home. I fly up to the ceiling, and it takes several attempts to get through – I remember kissing a sun-face that was marked on the light fixture; it has little molded glass features, and I kissed it on its lips. Then I’m through the roof, flying up past the electric power lines, headed through the blue sky. It’s very pretty out. I think that during the process of trying to get out through the ceiling, I am hearing someone talking about how Victorians used so much lye, and how could they stand to use it… but then someone replies that many cultures used a lot of urine for things… and the houses just smelled different in the old days.
Then, I’m dreaming of flying/driving along a freeway. People look like they’re in video game cars. I want to take my car faster, and make it fly, but I know that I shouldn’t. I realize that I probably could, and then I’m watching a video about car crashes, except that it’s computer animated, and it’s explaining how important it is to be fully aware during the whole crash. Self-presence is key to survival.
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