I dreamt last night I was in my car, at an intersection in Shelby. It was as if I was leaving Boiling Springs, based on the direction I was driving. I was on my way to see Jason Mraz in concert. In real life, I know very little about Jason Mraz. He sings one song I recognize and enjoy. They also made fun of him on Family Guy the other night, saying he was just some guy in a hat.
I got out of my car, for some reason, even though I was in the middle of the road. Somehow I was now on the road going West, towards the concert. I got on some sort of sled-like contraption and went down the road, with my friends Dave and Dennis somehow coming along. Dave and Dennis are my two closest friends who live near me. Like friends do, I have invested a large part of me in them. I also have been thinking lately how location factors into altering friendships and how some friendships become memories and others continue. I was almost dragging my friends behind me, as if they were memories coming with me, not people.
The road stopped and we proceeded and descended, trying to get close to our destination at the Jason Mraz concert. My subconscious stole this image of the road coming from underneath us, it is a central image in a book I am reading by Joyce Carol Oates (Black Water).
The road ending, but I still continued. The path was gone, but I was still aiming for the prize. The destination was in mind, but the way uncharted and untraversed.
We didn't make our destination. We tried to grab onto trees. There were lots of tree, surely influenced by my watching of Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers last night. I love trees and the Ents are just superb in that movie. In the movie, the forests were said to contain a lot of memory and a lot of history. I tried to grasp at them, but kept missing.
We fell towards water, a river I believe. We managed to grasp roots and I helped Dave and Dennis get to safety. Did I care for them at my own expense or did I care for the memory of past friendships at my own expense? Is the latter healthy? My friends were going to help me, but I woke up before I could leave the roots and climb to safety. I was left in limbo, grasping at the roots of growing memories inside me. Perhaps the Trevar in the dream wanted to climb to safety with his friends, but the subconscious Trevar wasn't ready to move on, wasn't ready to leave the memories, even if meant his last moments of strength were spent grasping onto the bottom of what has grown into a beautiful part of him.
Struggling with memories, a pretty common struggle, I presume. At the Jabbok, Jacob struggled with the memories of his brother. In the garden and on the cross, Jesus struggled with memories of God, salvation, God's people, and self. It is easy to hold onto the roots, forgetting that the roots support and give life to the changing beauty above the ground.
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