Google 'dreams' and 'meaning' and you will be buried under a bazillion 1s and 0s of digital diatribe, with all manner of people (academic and otherwise) claiming to have the answers on what each and every dream means. I don't doubt that some, many or most of their answers have some fundament, reason or logic but I believe the catalysts for our dreams and the way the dreams play-out is unique to every person and every dream that person has.
Most often I find that my dreams are some twisted take on events that are going on at the time: for me the dream is usually the complete opposite of reality. Take last night for instance.
I dreamed that I was coming home from primary school (as an adult [i.e. the age I am now]) walking among the kids pointing out all the things that had changed in the neighborhood on the way home. I cautiously acknowledge that I was not walking, but trundling along in something that resembled a mash up between a wheel chair and Green Machine (if you remember those you are about my age). The explanation for my mode of transport is simple: I saw one the other day and I am probably not long out of a wheel chair.
The school crosswalk experience was surreal and tranquil, so much so that all the kids around me were espousing quite eloquently how pleasant the experience was (that was weird!). The white lines and bright orange flags were replaced by a giant and very robust looking boom gate and a ridiculously chilled-out, almost drone-like YOUNG bloke was in attendance. This is the polar opposite of the twice-daily cross walk experience I remember; dozens of hyper kids jostling at the road side like greyhounds ready bolt when the whistle screams the signal to go, and the poor geriatric on the flags and whistle being all but mowed down by the throngs of screaming kids anxious to dump their bags at home and run off to play until sunset. All the while the geriatric crosswalk attendant feigning his expressions of concern, authority and responsibility for our safety.
I think that Old Man Mitch dreaming of trundling home from Primary School is my acknowledging what seems to be a perpetual Mid-life Crisis. Why now? Why last night?
By the end of this week I will have experienced two things that I have never done before. The first is Competition Trampolining. I have a trampoline, but compared to a comp tramp it is like jumping up and down on the roof of a convertible (i.e. bouncy but not really really really bouncy). Why am I trampolining all of a sudden? It is because my Acro students are starting to catch up with me; they can do nearly all of the tricks in my repertoire and I need to learn some more....STAT!. So expect future blogs on broken bones and strained muscles as I attempt tricks best left to the young and bendable.
The second event is competitive motocross. Some say this is super dangerous and probably not a good sport to try for the first time at the age of 40something. All I can say is that at least all the bikes are going in the same direction at roughly the same rate. As a recreational trail rider, I make it my business to know the risks I face and, out there in the bush the biggest killer of recreational riders is other recreational riders coming the other direction at the same speed.
See you all in Triage! (I'm the guy in front BTW, but you get the idea).
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