Dreaming in Phoenix

I had a dream in which I was walking on a concrete or grey stone path. It had four steps that went down, and I stepped mindfully, and then the path curved very slightly, and alongside it on the left was a long dark wooden arbor with very green plants covering it and covering a wall on the left side. One or two foot tall colorful creatures, like plaster statues come to life, were headed under the arbor and transformed into tiny brown birds, perhaps sparrows.

I woke at 6 am and took a walk from 6:30 to 8 am. When I got back, Francis was still sleeping and Angelkitty was on the bed with him, but she’s a scaredy cat and quickly, after one look at me, got up, jumped down, and hid under the bed.

Tibet Dream

My first encounter with Tibet, in this lifetime, was when I was about eleven years old. I knew absolutely nothing about Tibet, about Buddhism, or even about meditation. At that age, I saw a Doctor Who episode in which giant spiders jumped on people’s backs and controlled them. The same episode included at least one scene in which a bunch of white guys (this was filmed in England in the 70s) sat cross-legged in a basement and chanted, “Om mani padme hum.” “Om mani padme hum” means the Jewel in the Lotus; the Jewel is the mind, and the Lotus is the heart, and the combination of the two refers to compassion and loving-kindness. Apparently their chanting controlled the spiders, though what the jewel in the lotus has to do with hypnotizing giant spiders to attack people, I don’t know; it certainly doesn’t sound especially compassionate.

That night, I had a strange and vivid dream. It was set in a very dimly lit room with a long dark wooden cabinet against a wall. Above the cabinet, a man sat cross-legged, and he was dressed in bright yellow robes and wore a strange bright yellow pointed hat. He had a round face with a blissful little smile. He floated a few inches above the cabinet.

I woke up thinking that was a very strange dream, and that the funny man in yellow was either a genie or an elf. Approximately twenty years later, when I had become fascinated by Tibetan culture, I remembered that dream and realized that the so-called genie was a Tibetan monk wearing a hat just like the one the Dalai Lama and other Tibetan monks or lamas sometimes wear in ceremonies. Perhaps hearing the chant “Om mani padme hum” had triggered a past life memory in my subconscious. But if so, I could dismiss the monk’s levitation, because I’m rather skeptical about that. I should perhaps add that I am not one of those Shangri-la people who see Tibet through rose-colored glasses. Still, what I dreamed is what I dreamed.