Wrong Place, Wrong Time [en]

[fr] Un autre récit de rêve -- double, celui-ci. Je suis navrée, mais ça sort toujours en anglais...

A dream.

I have a gift for ending up at the wrong place at the wrong time. For example, think of the day Obama broke our beautiful lake in half by blowing up a huge bomb under it. I was in Saint-Tryphon, the lovely town at the end of the lake, and watched as the water ran out of it through the crack, as swimmers tried to reach the shore, and as the first rows of buildings in Saint-Tryphon toppled over in slow motion under the afternoon sun to come and lie down in the receding water.

We spent the rest of the afternoon checking out our boats, which were moored in mid-air, lowering them so that they would be back in the water again.

At some point I fled. I ran through Saint-Tryphon, watching the wobbly buildings by the shore and praying that the people would get out before they fell. I climbed into the mountains, found an abandoned village, and spread the word. “The lake is draining itself!” Nobody really believed me.

Obama had smilingly assured me that the lake would stop bleeding out sometime in the evening, and that everything would be back to normal in a few days. He didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with what he had done. I was just horrified.

Or another time, shortly after that, I had taken a trip to some middle-eastern country just in time to witness the explosion of a nuclear device under the sea near the coast. I saw birds fall out of the sky as they feebly tried to fly away. Why I was alive, I just couldn’t understand. A car with two military stopped and picked me up. We went to the command centre where for some reason, most of my luggage was waiting for me. There were some nice people there, but it was out of question to let me go back home.

I swallowed an iodine pill, and wondered why on earth we all had to be exposed to so much radiation. My life doesn’t always make sense to me, as you can see.

I was relieved to meet Cecil in the command centre. He was a friend of mine, and we plotted our escape together. Julie, one of the assistants, would come with us — she was a nice girl and also felt that she had nothing to do there, that her life was supposed to take another path. The trouble was packing (we had many belongings) and finding a way out of the country (that was Cecil’s job, being in a position of authority).

Amongst my most precious belongings was some jewellery, and a set of teeth (I know this sounds funny, but they were ivory and polished, and worth quite a lot in those days), as well as some pearls. Trying to get everything to fit in bags and boxes was a nightmare, especially as we couldn’t afford to have the other people in the command centre figuring out that we were going to make a run for it. They must have, because we even got comments on the size of our boxes, but they pretended nothing was wrong. Maybe they hoped it would go away if they didn’t confront it.

So we packed, and repacked, and repacked, and as days went by I became more and more anxious about leaving. We almost managed, once. Robert took us out to his helicopter. There were four of us, but Cecil was nowhere to be found. I was a bit worried, because Robert was completely loyal to those in charge, and I really wondered what the deal was with him taking us away. Maybe he was actually going to take us to a reeducation camp or a prison, and all our precious belongings would be taken away from us.

We never knew, because as he was fuelling up, he never passed the DUI test — and the helicopter was not up to standards either. I heaved a sigh of relief as we returned to the base, but went to bed certain that we had been found out and absolutely had to leave the very next day.

It didn’t happen the next day, or the one after that. It was agonizing. Cecil disappeared, after a long phone call to his family where I heard him tell his son he loved him very much. The day after that, Simon came up to me and gruffly told me that I was leaving, that Cecil had left instructions, and that he was my driver. Simon was not happy about it, but followed orders. I initially expressed surprise but decided to go along with it.

He scowled at me while I put my big box and bag in the boot of his tiny car. I climbed in, and we drove off. I didn’t need a Geiger counter to tell me how radioactive we were, and I hoped that we would not set off any alarms at the airport. I already had too much luggage and getting on board without attracting attention was going to be a tight squeeze.

As you can see, I made it out in one piece. I had to leave some of my things behind, but the precious teeth and pearls travelled in my jeans pocket (you know how TSA are with precious items in checked-in luggage: they just tend to disappear). I went through long and painful anti-radiation treatment, and thankfully today’s medical technology is keeping at bay all the cancers I should have developed as a result of such important exposure.

What was going through the minds of those people at the time, it really beats me.

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2 thoughts on “Wrong Place, Wrong Time [en]

  1. Here are a few of my thoughts… I love interpreting dreams!

    When I think about water I think about being sustained or having provision. It’s life-giving. I think the first part of your dream is talking about destruction from political forces on our sustenance. Removing from us what will sustain us. Your boat speaks of your personal business or endeavor. Because you need water for your boat to operate and move, and the water is not there, you are desperately trying to figure out how to keep your business afloat. I think the attitude Obama has in your dream is very similar to the attitude he has about what he has done to the economy, racking up triple the debt of any US president in history.

    Your other dream is very extensive. WOW. I will say this. I don’t know if you believe in God but I believe that God speaks to us in our dreams and that He may be trying to get your attention in this one. First of all, in the beginning you see a radioactive bomb go off and are wondering why you are are still alive. I believe this has more to do with your purpose… questioning why you are on earth. And I believe it is God telling you that you are on earth for a reason.

    The name Cecil means “blind”. Cecil was your guide… you are currently or have in the past followed blind guides. People that didn’t really know what they were doing but you trusted them because you didn’t know what else to do. It could also even be trusting in your own wisdom but still being blinded at the same time. But the whole time you are with Cecil, you are sure to bring your teeth and your pearls. Teeth usually speaks of wisdom and pearls speak of spiritual truths. Somewhere in your past, you have realized that these things are precious… and even though you have searched for other things, this wisdom and these spiritual truths, you always have around… in the back of your mind somewhere… you know they are right. Wisdom IS rare these days… true wisdom anyway… and so you value it greatly.

    All of the packing you are doing symbolizes you trying to figure out what you can really take with you to follow the path of wisdom… to follow truth. What you can “get away with” and what you can’t… when in reality… all of that extra baggage is just slowing you down.

    Robert means “Bright Fame”. I believe you are realizing that having fame could be the main enemy that is keeping you away from walking in truth.

    Simon is a Hebrew name and it means “listening”. Here, I believe God is wanting you to listen… to Him… and you don’t necessarily want to listen to Him. I don’t mean obeying here, I mean simply listening to His voice and hearing what He wants to say to you. God actually loves to speak to us and tell us what He sees in us and How He feels about us. He loves to tell us our true identity.

    I think Jesus (who is alive) wants to bring you into a place of healing to all of the things and pain that you have been exposed to. This is always a painful process… I have been through it myself. But in the end there is true redemption… all things are made new and clean. I think the medical technology speaks of God’s healing and protective powers in your life.

    If you have any questions or would like to discuss this some more you may email me at nighttim[email protected]

  2. Brooke, thanks a lot for the interpretation, though I have to say we’re on a radically different wavelength here — I’m afraid I don’t recognize myself at all in this reading.

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