Challenges to Conquer

(Original Date: July 5, 1997)

This blog seems to be sporadic. I’m not sure why my entries are spread out. I do have many dreams that are perfect candidates for this blog, but I don’t seem to write them down. Most of the time I tend to forget the dreams as soon as I wake up. By the time I’m brushing my teeth, I can’t recall what I dreamt. Charlie says that my dreams are messages for my reality. He said that I am afraid to know what is being told to me. I guess I am afraid, but of what? I have always wanted to know what is beyond us or who is out there. And I can’t see why I would be afraid of it now. Maybe I want to know who is sending me these messages & what am I supposed to be doing with them. I sometimes feel that I should not be keeping them to myself, but I’m afraid to show them to anyone.

Maybe that’s the challenge to be conquered. It is commonly known that dreams are a message from your subconcious. What are the messages I am getting thru my dreams?

Could it be that I should take a chance that not everyone will understand what I’m thinking or feeling. It’s ok if they do not understand or care. The only thing that matters is if I care enough to express my dreams/feelings therefore the purpose of this blog.

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Rejoice for a brand new life is granted you.

(Original Date :June 5, 1997)

Rejoice for you are granted this beautiful gift from God.
Protect this baby with all your will and
love him with all your heart
for God has entrusted you with the greatest gift he can give…
The gift of life.

A brand new life, a brand new soul
A brand new gift to make us whole.

A gift to cherish, a gift to protect
from all the evil and injustice on this earth.

God has loaned you a new life and it is up to you to ensure
that this beautiful new baby is well prepared for his journey
in life, a journey to fulfill God’s plan.

I had this dream several months before my son was born.

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Knightly Challange

(Original date: May 29,1997)
What is this you ask?
Ask not for knowing will only torment you.

Torment! Ha!
Torment is an old acquaintance
as familiar as a playground bully
from my childhood days…
or as classic as a rejection
from a high school sweetheart.

So do not threaten with such impotent words
Words will not suffice in this battlefield.

This dream came just like my medieval dreams seem to. I am a young peasant boy with trashy clothes and a ‘mop top’ hair do. I have black hair and its dirty – almost shiny & greasy. This time I find myself transformed into a knight on a black horse in the mist of battle. The words are my challenge – too whom, I do not know…

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Superman can’t help us!

(original date: ??,1997)
Superman can’t help us
He’s in a wheelchair now.
It’s not his fault,
we should have learned
To take care of ourselves.

Where are our superheroes?
Now, when we need them the most.

Superman can’t help us
Who can save us now

Part of the feeling that I got with this dream (when Christopher Reeves had his accident) was that ‘Superman’ couldn’t help us now. I took this to mean that society’s inability to be responsible for its actions has left us defenseless. By relying on mythical imagery (tv stars, tv characters) to solve our societal turmoil, we have lost our self-reliance. Life does imitate art! Our needs are satisfied (more like – put off) by what we see in the movies. We make heroes of movie stars and professional athletes rather than looking within. Social leaders and members of our community are larger than life and can be a better role model & ‘superior’ mentors.

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I’m not a dummy!!

(original written: May 12,1997)
Why would God punish me this way??
This is such a harsh punishment for someone so young!

All I wanted was to be like the other kids. I just wanted to be an average kid. I wanted to lead a simple, mundane life – nothing special! I wanted to go to high school, go to the prom and move on with the rest of my life! I didn’t want to be treated differently and I don’t want all the kids staring at me!

Some people say that in between lives we choose what life to enter into next. We choose a life that will challenge us and allow us to fulfill goals so that our soul can progress to the next level. I wonder if that is what normally happens between lives. I wonder why I chose to enter this one?

On my quest for an everage life, I asked my parents to enroll me into a softball league. They were afraid, but conquered their fears and did it. I’m beginning to regret it! They are so harsh! They want me to do well. They want it more than I do.They push so hard – I sometimes wonder what they did to deserve this. Who did they make mad in a past life, to have to endure this life with me as their son? What did I do to make my parents mad?

I think I know what it was – but it was an accident! I didn’t mean to drop the ball. The coach puts me in right field. He wants me to do well, but doesn’t want to see me fail – so he gives me an easy position. All the kids say, “that’s a good spot for the dummy. Keep him out there!”

I’m no DUMMY!

But one day my chance came! The ball was coming right towards me. I tell myself “this is your chance. Show them what you can do! Show them how normal you really are.” I guess I was trying too hard. I was concentrating so hard on showing them… I showed them all right.

The soft, white ball was rolling just right! The threads were swirling and swirling in a slow motion dance. It was so sweet – spinning with the grace of a ballerina, and coming right towards me. The ball was high in the air and had a technologically precise trajectory, like a Patriot missile ready to hit its mark…

It seemed to approach me at a snail’s pace, though. So nice and slow, so peaceful that my mind wondered off into something else. I wondered off for what seemed like hours. I started to daydream. I never realized how beautiful the blue sky really is; nor how billowy the clouds seemed to be; nor how they swell up and turn dark right before a thunderstorm. I never realized how beautiful my mother’s blue eyes really are – or how swollen her sorrow seems to be when she cries. I wondered what makes her cry. I started to wonder why so many beautiful babies were being dumped in the trash like wilted lettuce. Or why mothers would abort a fetus just because he will be born with Down Syndrome. That does not sit right with me. There is no excuse for our inhumanity…

And that’s when it hit me. It hurt so bad!! That ball hit me dead on, like a sniper’s bullet – right between the eyes. All that planning and all that peacefulness was shattered like a tempered piece of glass. Little bits and pieces of my life all exposed, just laying on the floor – next to that soft, white ball I was supposed to catch. Forget the crowd screaming! Forget my teammates calling out to me to “pick it up!”

It is perfectly clear now. Forget it all – it no longer seemed to matter! I AM a no-good DUMMY!!! I don’t deserve to be here!

I am no longer ‘here.’ It all seems dark and cold and I’m very hungry. Where did everybody go!? This place seems so isolated and bleak. I don’t like being trapped in here – but I quess I deserve it. I deserve to be trapped here in my own world.

I miss my friends. I wish I could be out there playing with them. They are not so mean to me anymore – now that they know me better. We were going to play baseball today. We were going to make believe that we were major league ball players, like Babe Ruth or Mickey Mantle, but I guess I deserve this punishment. I did embarrass them. I should have caught that ball.

My best friend said it was an easy fly ball, and that I should have caught it – but he comforts me by saying that I will do it next time. I miss being comforted by him. He knows just what to say to make me feel better.

I wish my parents did. They don’t talk much anymore.

This dream seems to have had a great impact on me. My wife tells me that I was crying in the middle of the night. Sobbing so hard & with such fear that she was afraid I was experiencing a horrible nightmare. But it did not feel like a nightmare. It did hurt me a lot and I do have strong feelings for what was happening in my dreams. It felt almost like a pastlife experience.

It seemed very real and almost as if I was really living through this – living the life of a blond Down-Syndrome boy about 12-14 yrs old. Sorta stodgy and very energetic. His life was so full of sunny days and billowy clouds, but off the horizon there was this one dark cloud he did not understand.

His realization that he was retarded hit him like a bullet. He was not aware why he was different until that moment. And the pain of that realization is what drove him into his darkness.

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