::: AstraL's Dream Journal :::

Soccer City

2006-07-18T05:48:00.000-07:00

... I returned there once again... to some of my most cherished memories... to soccer city. There was a time when almost everything in my life revolved around 60 minute or 90 minute games scattered all across the province. But few memories are as warm and concentrated as the ones from Soccer City, an indoor complex with hockey boards for sidelines and a artificial turf for grass. Overlooking it all, was a bar with large plexiglass windows. I loved playing here, the movement of the games so fast and exciting. No time to really think, only play by instinct. If dreams have a way of uncovering the deepest subconscious affections, then it surprisingly strikes me that my deepest love comes from Soccer City and not elsewhere. Almost like a lesson for me too. When I think about it, it was not a time when I played with my perennial-championship team the Athletics, but when I ventured off and played with the smaller teams just for... fun. And maybe therein lies the answer in entirety. Untainted and uncompromising fun. As my return there reminds me of vividly, I was no longer simply a contributor on 'Pickering Power' as I was on the Athletics, but one who was relied on and celebrated to carry the team to a place of winning that came so frequently to me, but clearly, so rarely to them. I remember just stepping on the 'pitch' and people smiling because I showed up, almost like a beacon of hope for them. I felt appreciated and that I belonged in this position, and outside of moments within school or in outside recreational leagues, it was rarely ever a position I was in ever again. Anyone whose felt that measure of respect would agree its very welcoming. I looked around and saw not well-known and reputed players as I had always been acquainted with, but more like the an rag tag collection of players resembling the cast of the Bad News Bears or Might Ducks. I loved it that way. Thankfully, as we began playing again, I saw a few of my old dear teammates again from the Athletics too - Jamie and Nick, two players who came just for the fun of it. And fun we did have to say the least.
I remember gaining position deep in the 'corner' of the opponents end, cutting the ball back quickly and then hitting it hard and towards the corner as my dad always taught me too - and amazingly enough, my adventure here was accurate enough that I heard my dad's voice rise above all others and yell in dismay 'Ohhhhhhhh'.... or maybe I have it wrong. I realize now that came right after I got the rebound from my first shot and then sent the ball high this time, rising straight into the top corner of the net, bouncing off the 'post' or top boards, hitting straight down the ground and in. Either way, my dad was the most excited of all watchers, but my team soon followed. I walked away slowly, staring at the ground, trying to make it look like scoring was never a big deal. But it was, and I basked in those few seconds of unmitigated affection and joy of others and likened it to a quick forebode on the streets of heaven. If you've never experienced what its like to a score a goal, I hope one day you will, because there are few moments in life like it, where all your perseverance, dedication and skill meet in one moment, and release into a moment of true bliss and accomplishment (believe me, I'm purposelessly trying to avoid relating the analogy to sex, so thats why I avoided using the word 'climax'). But alas, like all pleasures, the bliss of scoring a goal eventually comes to an end, and even more so when the other team scores two more goals to render your own goal almost useless. But even in my dreams, am I so fortunate that I was able to relive the moments of Soccer City once more - a time when soccer wasn't duty, or a way to appease my dad, or make my mark on a great team or any other motive but just... as they say so often.. 'for the love of the game'.
I look forward to returning one day soon...

Mr. President

2006-06-05T06:00:00.000-07:00

I don't spend much time thinking about him, but he did end up in my dream just now. Me and my boys were eating dinner with him on the grass beside the driveway at my parents house. Now, I know I might get a lot of heat for this but I need to be truthful - he really seemed like a cool guy. I mean, sure, he had some wierd hatred for David Carridine, but overall - he was definitely a solid guy.

Parking Lot

2006-05-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

Wow.... dreams are really powerful... what an understatement. Its amazing how not only can they twist and shape what you know and project it into something else entirely, but they clearly also have the power to unlock what's hidden deep, deep down inside us. Case in point was the dream I just had just minutes ago. I don't want to go into incredible detail about it, but basically, it was a repeat of a dream I've had serveral times before over the years. I'm on pretty good terms with my father, and we don't fight much at all now (in fact, part of my maturity has been in the fact that I know how to suck up my pride and steer clear of the potential conflicts and arguments), but in this dream, it was like I was back to being a hysterical 8 year old kid again. We were in a parking lot and my dad embarrassed me so badly (and cruely to I might add) and I just really flipped out at him. I couldn't control myself. I ranted and swore and cursed and even fought. It was disgusting how much hate came out of me. One thing I can say is that in all my years, no matter how angry I've got at my Dad, I've always controlled myself within a certain limit (meaning, I've never swore at him or even dared to touch him) but in this dream, it's like that didn't exist. And in some horrible way, our discommunication almost felt good - as if I didn't want it to end. You know when you've had such a big fight that it almost feels good to keep arguing? Thats what this was like, except far worse than I've ever been in.
Anyway, suffice to say, when I woke up all I could think about was how guilty I was for acting like that and truly sad for all the darkness I'm capable of. Suddenly words like forgiveness and redemption started take on meaning again as I searched my heart and I realized in that moment that if I don't act on it now, a chance to bring healing to these dark parts of me may be lost for good. So I suppose that this will be my platform for making first amends and saying that for whatever anger or bitterness I carry around for my dad still (whether the root cause of which has been my own idiocy or his) I want to forgive him and say sorry for my part in it all. I know thats only the first step in healing, but I pray those words take a whole life of their own and go places in the heart that can really help to change things.

Thank God for dreams, because clearly, He spoke to me through one just now.

Part II

2006-05-04T15:24:00.000-07:00

The journey after I last wrote:

... we had arrived.. where exactly, I can't remember - but I do know it was on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. As I stood on a sandy hillside, high up on the curve of the road overlooking the coast, I saw an enormous city, with large pyramids. Instantly I thought I was in Egypt, but then when I looked closer, I realized the pyramids were really standing in the middle of skyscrapers and office towers. A very strange contrast. Then after I had another short encounter with a snake, we walked closer down the road towards the city. I remember seeing a man who accompanied us, who was so tall I couldn’t see his face.
We arrived in some sort of coliseum hall, where a crowd made a large ruckus of some sort of sword fighting going on upstairs. When we entered the hall, I saw three combatants, fighting each other, not with swords but with a myriad of long shards of plastic – something like this strap on bracelets you could buy in the 80’s, but long and thin and strong. They came in all sorts of colours, but mainly yellow and red. The fighters skillfully fought each other, and one motioned to the crowd, asking them which country he should represent next. Then I saw he had a chain of flags draped around his neck – I remember Korea, Canada and China. When they shouted, he seemed to ‘switch countries’ by changing the order of his necklace, then he kept fighting the other two…

Then I awoke…

The 2nd Path...

2006-05-04T03:45:00.000-07:00

I knew this night would be full of imagery and traveling even before I fell asleep. My mind was moving so fast, burdened by guilt, stress and pressure...

The person led me past the usual entrance to my cottage a little further down, to a new entrance that was built the year before, but somehow I forgot. We went this way, and suddenly I found myself in a marsh by the sea, a marsh full of fluffy white balls of fur plants. The marsh was teeming with life, I could just sense it breathing all around me. I followed my guide deeper down the shore and found different life on the ground, small reptiles but it all seemed normal to me. But then on the ground I saw roves of Snake eggs breeding on the ground, and I knew something was drastically wrong. My guide skipped on a head without paying heed and then suddenly I saw it. Shockingly, two Cobras lay on the ground beneath me; one young, but the other full grown. I never saw anything like them before, because they were shiny blue Cobras, with a bright golden/green trim that seemed so natural in its environment. Spectacularly beautiful, but dangerous as hell. Freaked out, I ran into the marsh lands and towards the neighboring forest, lucky to escape them. Into the thick trees I went and there in the misty red forest, hundreds of exotic creatures - everywhere! Creatures I had never laid eyes on before, all new to me, and very, very strange looking . Reptiles, insects, and furry animals that I can barely remember (except one with an armor and a shield who threw a javelin at me - not sure how he got in there). It was like I was in a video game, they were running at me, swarming me, trying to overcome me. But like so often, the dream never turned to a childish nightmare, and I was more concerned for my safety than being outright terrified. Then thankfully, I received help from my guide and others, and then I found myself in the bottom, rec room of my parents house - discussing everything with a ton of friends and other people I knew. Then two, smaller, fish-like golden/blue cobras slithered by. As we went to kill them, my friend Chris Jones looked at me with an unforgettable stare and shouted something that summed everything up perfectly, "This is FUCKED UP!"

Then I returned to the land of the awake...

old wood in the labyrinth...

2006-03-20T09:11:00.000-08:00

I was there with my sister, who seemed to be much younger, about 10 or 11 again, and we entered into a dark part of the maze. It was a tight space surrounded by dark, dirty wooden boards that seemed to be falling apart. Looking up from his old wooden table was the first of two Eastern European men in long, dirty chef’s aprons, cooking what seemed to be enormous sized lamb burgers. They tried to get me to purchase one immediately, but I ignored them, trying to find a way to continue in the maze. They kept talking to me though, pressing me to buy one, and soon my sister seemed enchanted by their words. As I rounded the corner, and pull aside one of the wooden boards, I found that the path led no where, that this ‘room’ was a dead end. Now the men began pressing me to buy right away, and started surrounding me, cornering me, telling me that if I started to look around at their products, then I must “start what I must finish” (oddly the phrase were switched around, I just realized). I knew it was wrong, that this had to be a trap, and I started stumbling around the room, looking for a way out. But then I saw my sister, already between them, preparing an ugly, massive sized lamb burger and already putting a withered piece of lettuce on it. They chanted “start what you must finish” over and over and over again. I called my sister, to run RUN! At first she didn’t listen, but finally like a good little sister, the enchantment was broken and she obeyed her older brother. We began running towards one of the walls that I realized was really the door we had originally walked through (this was hidden to me at first). Then we began running away from those two men, who made the world seem like a small cardboard box and nothing more.
Then I had the images of an old, worn paper poster of two dragons, friendly, but mysterious. Like a children’s nursery rhyme, staring and waving at me as if they somehow represented what I just experienced. Then I returned to the world of the awake once again....