I Dream About Dead People

NOTE: Usually, in a blog post, I put captioned images to emphasize certain points. I won't be doing that this time. I want to treat this topic with a certain amount of respect and I feel images would detract from that. Below is a transcript of my video.


I dream about dead people.

Sounds kinda morbid, doesn't it? It isn't, though. I don't really dream about them being dead, but rather it's this weird feeling that they aren't really dead. In my dreams, it's a palpable feeling that they are still alive. They're just hiding, waiting for me to find them. Sometimes, they've even leave me clues to their whereabouts, like I'm the only one they want to reach them, like an odd game of hide-and-seek.

Usually, it's a dream about a former employer I had when I was a teenager. We became very close friends. He died of ... well, I'm not exactly sure. It may have been a heart attack brought on by drug abuse. Someone may have told me back then (Warren died about 30 years ago) but I've forgotten or suppressed it. I don't know and don't want to know. I was 16 years old.

After Warren's death, I was in his home and I found myself taken by a compulsion to go through all of his closets, cabinets, and any other storage place that had a door. I was looking for something but couldn't put my finger on it. I went to my mom and told her what happened. She told me that I was looking for my friend. I think she hit the nail on the head. She can be very insightful that way.

I was invited to be a pall-bearer at his funeral. I didn't go. I can't bear funerals. There is a wrongness to them that I can't ignore. I learned later on that there were so few people in attendance that the pall-bearers couldn't lift the coffin. I admit that I feel a certain amount of guilt because of that. However, maybe paradoxically, I feel no regret for not attending. He was my friend; my friend was gone. His funeral was not part of his life. It was part of other people's lives, people who I didn't really care to share that experience with.

So, now, 30 years later, Warren is one of a handful of people I've known who have died and who linger in my life through these recurring dreams.

I've looked on the internet for people who experience this same phenomenon. Most of what I find is a bunch of hoodoo-voodoo explanations about earthbound spirits and ethereal visitations. I have read an interesting article claiming that the deceased may represent my own attempts at bridging problems in my life, that there is something represented by them that could help me resolve the issue at hand. Eh. *shrug* Who knows?

A friend of mine, who lives on the East Coast,  recently lost her cat who had been a great friend to her. She is experiencing something like what I felt all those many years ago. She writes: (*snipped from facebook and redacted for privacy*) "I can't shake the feeling that [my cat] should be just around the corner somewhere. that he's not really dead, that he's just napping somewhere I haven't looked yet. It's very disconcerting." 

Yes, it may feel strange for a while. Maybe he'll visit her in her dreams, like Warren visits me. Or not. Either way, it's good to honor these moments and treat them with care, just as if these people were still alive. Who knows? Maybe it'll be your last opportunity to express to them how much you continue to love them.

Claustrophobia

Lemme out!

Maybe not THAT big.

Everywhere I go, I find myself not fitting in. You may think this is a statement of leftover teen angst. It isn't. I feel, literally, like I'm too big for my surroundings. Tables and chairs feel too small. Silverware is uncomfortable because it feels too light, too small. I feel crammed into vehicles - the proverbial sardine. My bed seems too short and, although I know it's untrue, I feel like my feet hang over the end.

You get the point.

Paradoxically, I keep losing weight and my clothes keep getting bigger and bigger. I swear, if my pants bunch up any more when I belt them people are gonna start thinking I'm a hobo.

What the heck is going on?

Back off, Bowzer.

The word that comes to mind is "distortion". Someone joked today that maybe I just need a new prescription for my glasses. In a way, feeling like this isn't unlike wearing a new pair of glasses. The ground comes way up closer, your peripheral vision is warped, and the world seems a little more 3-D for a short period of time while your brain is adjusting to the new, clarified images it's receiving.

Still, it's rather odd to be dealing with all the people around me who seem the size of my old Star Wars action figurines. I used to line them up and shoot them with my disc shooter and pretend they got obliterated by some disintegration ray.

There's something in the back of my mind that says this is how people who own football teams feel. They stand way up in the tops of the stadiums like all-powerful, untouchable Olympian gods, watching all the little moving figures down on the field and in the bleachers. To them, we're nothing more than toys to be played with - lined up and shot down or exalted at their whim. Cool.

Taking Off My Armor

There is a concept in psychology referred to as archetypes, the idea being that humans can be understood by tracing behavior to shared universal symbolic concepts. I wondered for many years which archetype I manifested in my life. Well, they say if you seek you shall find. What they didn't tell you is where you may find it.

I was working at one of those supermarket bakeries in Gatesville,Texas when I learned who I was. A woman I was working with pointed it out to me and I have never forgotten that moment. She had been having a rough day because we were short-handed that day. I saw she was struggling, so I told her that I would be over to help her get caught up. She smiled with gratitude and then said "Thank you, Mr. Pickett. By the way, did you know you got this knight in shining armor thing goin' on?"

Think you're bulletproof?

There you have it. She nailed it. That's my button. Do you need help? Are you in distress? Tell Rob and he'll come a'runnin' to right the wrong and rescue the damsel in distress. The knight in shining armor is the theme that runs through my entire life since I was a small child. It's how I approached religion, it's how I've chosen my jobs, it's how I've involved myself in relationships. It's good work if you can get it and you're everyone's hero.

Now let me tell you about the shadow side of the knight.

The knight is always always at war or preparing for it. "Where is that damn dragon?" They live by a strict code. Don't mess with them or they'll slice your throat without a second thought and good riddance. They're encased in metal that protects their bodies but it also means they are separated from the common man and untouchable. By the same token, knights are unable to touch others and return intimacy. The armor makes knights clumsy and ham-handed when it comes to delicacy. They never settle down.They never get the girl because their lives are work, work, work, work. The knight's armor can also be roasting hot, freezing cold, and terribly suffocating.  There is a hair's breadth difference between the hero and the desperado.

This actually looks comfortable.

Fuck. It's exhausting.

A Joke In Plain Sight

I just realized something about my cover photo. (Be nice. I already know that I have a cheesy smile.)

What I realized is that this was taken in the fiction section of the library. Do you get the unintended joke?

Iconoclasticism: Begin With Yourself

The first step to breaking through the world of illusions is to break through your own. This first step takes a great deal of courage and humility. I had to ask questions about myself that I never thought I'd have to face and I didn't like the answers I found.

Over time, I've learned - for myself - that change always starts with a question. When I start asking questions, it's because I'm on the trail of a personal discovery. For some reason, I never realize it at the time it's happening but can always recognize it afterwards. For example, I used to be a minister. One day I was out in service with some of the older men in the congregation (they were grooming me to become a traveling overseer) when the topic of prayer came up. At some point, I said to them "Frequently, I feel like I'm just talking to myself when I'm praying." This led to many other questions and before I knew it, I'd discovered that I'm actually an atheist. 

Do you have a favorite idea about yourself? A sacred cow that you have lived by? I did. All my life I was under the illusion that I was a great student and did so well in school. Then, one day while I was thinking about going to college, I began to wonder about my high school transcript. Nobody had ever revealed my class standing to me, my GPA, my SAT scores, or any of it. So, I called up my high school, had a talk with the registrar, and had her send me a copy of my transcript. Here it is: 

WTF!?!

There you go. Four years of my life summed up on one page and, really very little to show for it.

Now, to be fair, this was an exceptionally turbulent time in my family. The very fact that I graduated at all is an incredible accomplishment just by itself and I take a lot of pride in it. I won't go into it, but trust me. Life really sucked back then. 

Anyway, my point is that my educational background was one of my sacred cows. I'm not who I thought I was. Maybe that illusion has been helpful over the years. I mean, really. I've only been asked once about proof of graduation. When I worked for the State of Texas, they required that I provide a copy of my high school diploma. Other than that, nobody gives a good GD about all this. "Can you do the work?" is all most of my employers have ever cared about.

So, what kind of sacred cows do you live by? Tell me about it in the comment section below.

The World Of Maya

Illusions. That's what is all around you. The world that has been created, largely, by others which you were born into. The world around you has been projected onto your lives by others, some with good intentions and some not so.

WE ARE IMPRISONED

Look around. Most of us see a world that we have accepted as "true" or "real". The fact of the matter is that the vast majority of us live in a world that someone else created around us. Your house or apartment was most likely designed by someone else. Your dishes were created by someone else. Your car was made by someone else. Your television, your phone, your clothes, your books, your food, your language, your laws, even the colors you see everyday - were created by someone else. You live in a world that was created for you and you bought into it, literally and figuratively.

In many respects, I'm just like you. I've been trying to play by the rules and show myself to be an upstanding guy. Folks, it's making me crazy. There's no other way to put it. 

So, I'm making my escape. Wanna come with me?