Things that conscious people should know;

A Dream 

(originally written in 1999)

Last night I had a wonderful dream. It wasn’t any old dream, it was as profound and exciting of a dream as I’ve ever had. On the eve of the last Easter of the century, yes, the millennium, all the dreams of all the brothers and sisters came together, and I dreamed it. You were there, everyone was there. It was THE DREAM.

Oh  we’ve been getting old, the cares of a war torn crazy world wearing our sparkles down to faded memories. We had trudged our way through so many failures and letdowns, rip-offs and mindfucks, that our spirit to continue on the path that we knew to be true in our youth was severely thin. Survival had been our primary concern for so many years that greed, and selfishness had naturally conspired to hold us away from our destiny with apparent success.

Somewhere inside of all of us, that original spark of joy and sharing still smoldered, patiently  waiting for the moment that a divine wind would blow and fan it to the flame that we have always sought, and hoped for since the first time we danced to the freedom of our music, and shared the bounty of our planet in youthful flourish.

I’ve dreamed the way to this happening many times, with the result always being a frustrated parody of the our thwarted efforts in the real world. Always trying, always ready, but the needs and greed's of humanity always sucking up the energy and the potential before it could even get started.

I and some of my friends were gathered, wishing we could play music, get high and in general do the things that we love most in the world. It was like an old polluted park down in the city, and the old wooden picnic table we sat around looked as scarred and dilapidated as we truly felt inside but had still not surrendered to the sorry inevitability.

Someone just scored some herb, and placed it in a pile on the table. I and someone else were trying to remove the pieces of flotsam that had merged with the weed. A few others had drifted off towards their old motor home, looking for a beer, or something else to help them forget the boring and fruitless moment, when a slight breeze came along and stirred the pile enough for one of us to make a quick movement of their hand to try and save the herb. The movement was not very graceful and succeeded in scattering most of the pile to the ground. Those who were still at the table got disgusted and followed their lackluster feelings off in search of that beer. I stayed behind hoping to salvage enough of what was left to fill a pipe.

Yes just another disappointment, in a long line of ‘em.

Suddenly I noticed there was a lot of activity and commotion over by the motor home, and I covered up the herb with a piece of paper, and went to see what the excitement was. Probably cops on the way or something.

Everyone was hurriedly packing up their stuff and throwing it into the motor home when I drew up beside them.

“What’s up?” I asked, kind of dreading the answer.

She smiled a smile that took twenty years off her old hippie countenance, and said, “There’s a happening!”

So I to rounded up my family, and our instruments and followed the motor home out of the city towards the somewhat fresher air of nature.

On the way, more and more old friends and hippies joined the caravan, and it was miles long, a dominating collection of vans, buses, and vehicles that would have made any cop cringe.

Finally we got there. There was already thousands mingling, shaking hands, giving hugs to long lost friends and brothers, and as soon as the vehicle stopped, our children were whisked away in the excitement, and even I began to feel an elation that I’d nearly forgotten ever existed. There was a fleeting thought of the herb I’d left back on the table in the park, but just at that moment, a good friend whom I’d not seen in years, maybe it was you, came up and greeted me with joy and enthusiasm. I forgot the pot.

“You gonna play?” He asked. “They’re setting up all over the place!”

“I hope so.” I responded, “I brought my equipment.”

“Great!” He said, “See you later.” Another hug and he was gone into the growing crowd.

I walked down the road, it was like an avenue of every gathering, barter fair, or grass roots rock concert, all rolled into one.

Respectively placed in spots all along the avenue, were bands, musicians of every kind, setting up their gear with gusto, and obviously enthusiastic about the opportunity to perform at this event. Some I recognized, and they waved as I passed. Everyone was smiling, and though the average age seemed to be somewhere around fifty, there didn’t seem to be any old people dragging their worn carcasses along with characteristic scowling and cynical attitudes.

I suddenly realized that the spots were filling up, and I’d better hurry to find my own if I too wanted to participate in this event.

Now in other dreams, this was the part that was always the turning point. I’d go to gather the instruments only to find that they’d been stolen, or stepped on, or crucial accessories left behind, which was the setup for the bummer that always followed.

Not this time, everything was there, and we quickly gathered it all up and walked with spring in our steps to the next available position to set up.

We did.

By this time the music had begun, the colors and painted faces took on radiance's that had only been seen in psychedelic contrivance before, but now had a sense of finality and reality to them. Everywhere was dancing, and magically, the strains of all those bands of  musicians playing everything we’ve ever heard and then some, did not conflict or overlap with each other.

At first I had the usual sense of, “Better hurry up, and get it set up, before it gets too late and there is nobody left to catch our little piece of the action,” but I soon realized that there was truly all the time we needed.

Everyone got to play, and the crowds drifted from one little concert to another as the evening progressed, passing along their joy and comradery as they went. We played like never before, into the night, and the crowds did not thin, they only became bigger and more enthusiastic as time rolled on.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, a change came about. No one could say exactly when, but the expected middle-aged exhaustion from such partying never came, and instead of getting tired, we seemed to get younger and knew we could literally dance, play, and sing all night.

Time stopped somehow, and we all knew that we had finally arrived at our destination. Funny, but there were no plain clothed narcs slithering through the crowds, no secret agents, no cops, and absolutely no human resistance to the marvelous happening. Just us children, happily enjoying our God given right to being who and what we are.

Just before dawn, the music paused, the crowds of thousands respectively became silent as a profound hush came over us all. We all bowed our heads in our own silent prayers of thanks and humbleness to our respective understanding of Spirit, and tears of joy were on many faces.

Out of the silence, a small voice of a child was heard to all.

“We’re home now, aren’t we?”

In one voice we all answered that innocence with a strong and resounding shout. “Yes!”

And I woke up feeling the trueness of that dream.

The world was still there, people and children were still dying in the futile pride and vaingloriousness of arrogant nations, the cops were still prowling the highways and byways looking for someone to hassle, and the middle class slaves were jostling each other on the freeways to get to their slave stations in time to earn their daily stipence.

On any other day, after any other dream, I would have wistfully sat and closed my eyes trying to recapture the beauty of the fading dream, before I would sigh in resignation as I prepared to meet the old grey world one more time. But today the sun was shining, and I knew that this dream was no ordinary dream. I was high. Don’t know how long it will last, this feeling that hope has come back, and that we will all soon come to this dream in reality, but I could not just let it pass without letting you all know.

Keep the dream alive, even as the whole world conspires to rip it out of your heart. Keep the music going, and don’t forget the joy, evenf you may be too tired right now to get it up. Don’t despair, cause our dreams are real and valid, and someday soon will come to pass.

When you hear the word, don’t hesitate, pack your shit and get on down the road. We’ll all be there, and so will you.

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