Friday, April 20, 2012
Last night I dreamed of a manta ray that became a boy. He came out of the sea that was under my bed in a hotel room. I pulled him out of the sea, and once he was in my room, he became a boy, a small brown boy with black, close-cropped hair, covered in sparkly, shiny motes and shell-like creatures, blue scaly pants, with a satchel over his shoulder. I had pulled him out of the sea, thinking he was a manta ray, but he wanted to go back to the sea and not to stay with me. When I asked him why he wanted to go back to the sea, he sang me a song. Kiss me, Mother, Kiss your darlin, he sang. Then we sang together, Lay your head upon my breast. Throw your lovin' arms around me. I am weary, let me rest*.
After the song, I understood. I let him put his manta ray suit back on, and sent him back to the sea.
I also dreamed that I couldn't find my wallet. I needed my ID to take part in something with my cousins--my cousin and his new wife.
In essence, I dreamed that I had to find proof of myself in order to be with my family.
There were other things, but I leave them out because they seem unimportant. My mind is communicating with me. I'm listening.
*you might recognize this from O Brother Where Art Thou. I wasn't watching it last night, but I love that movie.