Thursday, October 15, 2026

A Dream, but no Haiku

The other night I had a dream that I think may be quite significant, but I'm still not entirely sure what it means.

I was in a situation that reminded me of the "letters tests" I took when applying for the Letters departments at Time-Life Books and Time Magazine. (In those interviews, I was given sample reader letters and back-up research/reporting for the passages or stories involved, and was asked to write the kind of letter I would send back to the reader.) In the current dream, I was in a huge room with floor-to-ceiling windows, but just a large desk. I don't even remember a computer or chair, to be honest. A woman presented me with a hand-written document, but here, it was not a letter to be replied to. I was being asked to rewrite/edit the document using my higher spiritual insight, I guess you could say. My knowledge needed to be folded into the essay or story or whatever it was. I don't remember the whole dream -- when I came and went over a few days, people at the door questioned why I was doing this. The woman who had given me the material was well, but not ostentatiously, dressed, and I was the same. I remember feeling quite confident, as if this job were "right down my alley". And I remember saying to her that, as there was a passage in French, we would need a native French speaker to look it over too. That's all I remember.

All I can think of is that my post-70 "job" must involve translating current thinking into more forward-thinking material, in some way that goes beyond this blog. The dream felt good overall, and my aura of confidence felt good. So I look forward to seeing how it all unfolds!

On a completely different subject, yesterday I was at a certain big box store, waiting for the bus. I was going to have a rather long wait, and unfortunately I had not brought with me the crossword and small notepad I usually keep for these moments. I do have a "new" flip phone, however, that has a "notes" function, so even though I couldn't remember exactly what constituted haiku, I decided to write a few short haiku-like poems. Here they are, in the order written:

Outside the bog box store
smokers' smoke wafting,
no bus
wondering what it all
means

Every aisle
too, too much plastic
an affront to the 
goddess

The bus
must have come early
or i came late

Three crows in a tree
isn't that supposed to
mean something?