Time Travel (John Dotson’s dream of January 5, 2018)
There is a dual setting, clearly based in Tennessee-land, at the high school and at the radio station. In both places the setting is also well into the future, all is futuristic. The architectures are fully technicized—constructed in a manner not now possible. I move through all the spaces almost as if a spy. In one situation I casually identify myself as a time-traveler—which is heard by a couple of high school students as no big deal.
While the architectures are enveloping, I am also aware, a totally new awaring, of a vast, vast valley—pristine and unsettled—that is observable from a new height of the building. This is breath-taking and stunning in that this verdant, abundant vastness has been so close throughout my life, yet undiscovered. The dimensions are those of the grandest western geology transposed to the Appalachians—and totally hidden until now. Something of the primordial Appalachians that has been mysteriously preserved and is now revealed to me—adjacent to the home places.
Typically for me, I am on task, concerned with litter, debris-detritus, and I am active in picking up and restoring order to the situation. Inside the radio station this becomes even more substantive a task—removing dust and even long-dried layers of red mud from vintage equipment. At one point there are sacks of supplies that have been lost for ages and are no good. I take them on, to remove them and refresh things.
As I am awakening, I continue my progression through the high-school corridors. While there are exacting new security measures in place, I am able to blend in and pass through thresholds by means of a shamanic self-assurance. I get to wherever I want and need to go.
As I am awake-dreaming, I feel a consolidation of dream-options and waking-possibilities. Time to get to work.