heaven

I was with two old friends and we had been looking for something for a long time. We had searched the flat plains of the landscape, and now we were climbing a seemingly immeasurable ladder, stretching up into the sky. The ladder was of an unusual structure in that it had three sides, much like the legs of a stool, so that the three of us could climb the ladder, roughly on the same height rung, at the same time. We had been climbing for such a long time - I cannot say how long ... days, weeks, even years. We were determinedly climbing, working as hard as we could, trying to reach the top. At the top, we imagined heaven. A wonderful place. Suddenly, one of us - I cannot recall who - stopped and asked just when we were going to reach the top. Hadn't we been climbing and searching forever? The knowledge came to us - perhaps one, perhaps all - that all we needed to do was to let go of the ladder. To be, not do. To have faith. We could see an endless drop below and the top seemed not so far away, and, yet, we let go. Immediately we rose quickly through the air - effortlessly. We reached the top without struggle and we climbed through the hole into the space beyond. We seemed to be in a vast office block of some sort. Old walls, filing cabinets and heavy metal doors. I ventured into a room where two people were working, dusting the furniture, their faces lined and mapped by their lives. Where is it, I asked them. Where is heaven? We thought it was here. Heaven is all around you, they answered, and at that moment, I saw the view from the window. A magnificent blue sky day. Sweeping green fields surrounded by voluptuous, undulating darker green hills. A body of water - perhaps a river, perhaps a sea - bright blue and shining. An orange tree bearing giant oranges bent over the water, its fruit ripe and ready to be eaten. Flowers blooming in pockets of the surrounds and animals playing. Some people were already out there and we went outside to join them and to explore. Upon stepping outside, the beauty of the landscape was magnified. The air buzzed with life, the gentle warmth of the summer sun kissed my skin, and the scents of earth, water, flowers and animals filled my nostrils. I wanted to go to the orange tree, so I headed out to the water. I stepped into the water, washing off the past, immersing myself in the wonderful cool. I looked around and could see the tree further down, around the bend. I climbed out of the water and walked along the damp sand. Thousands of ants crawled along one part of the sand and into the water making hundreds of tiny tracks. A fleeting thought crossed my mind: were there imperfections in heaven? But I brushed it away, walked carefully around the ants, and found the orange tree. There it was, an ancient tree, its trunk and limbs gnarled, reaching over the water. Huge, bright orange oranges hung heavy on the tree above the clear blue shallows of the water. I imagined how juicy, how delectable the fruit would be. I wanted to stay here forever. A big, happy dog bounded over, splashing in the water, tongue hanging out and hair flying, rushing to greet me.

seeking the answer

I was in a crowded place. Lots of people that I have known throughout my life were there, as well as many I have never known. It was night time and the crowd was both indoors - inside a vast building - and outdoors in the immediate surrounds. I had already been inside and I was now outside, searching for someone or something. Some of my old friends were sitting at long benches or in dark corners in twos and threes, talking with one another as though in private. I wandered through the grounds and saw more people talking meaningfully with one another, seemingly as though they were trying to find the answer to a question. Suddenly I saw that I still had a burning question that I have carried with me always and that some of these people were the people I looked to in earlier years to find the answer - and they were searching too. I hurried through the crowd, trying to find the key people I have respected deeply in my life, to see if they were here, to see if they knew. I passed old friends and acknowledged them, but didn't stop. Heading toward the stairs that led to the building, I bumped into a tall police officer - a woman who was at least six feet tall - who was walking with another tall police officer - a man of about six four. I joked with them for a moment, feeling so small yet quite confident in their presence, and then continued up the stairs. The male officer walked up the stairs too, to greet his wife who was coming downstairs. She was about my height and was holding a newborn baby. The officer bundled the baby in his big arms and we said goodbye. The crowd heading upstairs had come to a halt so I excused myself and climbed through, urgent to make it to the top of the stairs. There, I could see a group of people I had known in my childhood that I did not really want to spend time with now; I didn't feel comfortable with them or trust them. The leader of the group spied me and immediately starting chasing me. She was only playing, but I sensed a volatile undercurrent. I responded, however, as I hoped to humour her for a moment and then move on to find the people I had come to seek. She chased me into a part of the building that was a maze. I ran around the labyrinth, both trying to find my way and to lose her, confused by the mirrors and many doorways. Finally I found my way through and I set through the crowd once more, looking for my guides.

fear

I am waiting to cross a very busy road. Enormous trucks like road trains hurtle past - smoke blowing, engines roaring, lights beaming. Giant tyres spin past and I wait, anxious. B walks across the road easily. I can see her on the other side. An old woman with a walking stick and wearing lavender also waits. She hangs back from the kerb and I think she must be worried about crossing too. The lights change and it is time to cross the road. I go to help the old woman and she calls me 'dear'. Crossing the road, however, proves to be terribly hard. My legs won't work properly and each step requires enormous effort and concentration. My fear paralyses me so I walk with long, wobbly strides, swaying and very slow. The old woman thinks I am drunk and shuns me. She disapproves. The lights have changed again, the old woman is safe on the other side, and I am still crossing the road, trying to master my fear so that I can walk easily again.

stairs down

Walking through an underground shopping centre, pushing a trolley. My brother is just ahead. We need to walk down steep, spiraling stairs, so I grip the trolley with one hand, holding it in front of me, and hang on to the balustrade with the other. There are many people climbing down the stairs, all in a single file for the stairwell is narrow and grows increasingly steep. More people enter the stairwell from underground railway platforms, adjoining the stairs. My progress down is slow, with the weighty trolley, hanging now, in front of me. I see my brother further ahead. He is walking with ease down the stairs, his hands comfortably by his sides and his feet sure. Suddenly, the balustrade ends. There are just stairs and nothing to hold onto. I am even more careful. I do not want to fall, nor do I want to lose my grip on the trolley and injure anyone below, particularly my brother. An old woman enters the stairwell from one of the railway platforms - she steps out of the light and into the darkness of the underground. For some reason beyond my control, my arm flies back and I hit her in the stomach. She is furious and tells me she is going to press charges. I am confused - I did hit her, but I didn't mean to. I try to joke, to diffuse the anger or sidle out of the situation, but she will not be appeased.

fixing situations

I was in Newcastle and I drove to a venue that regularly housed an art exhibition, open to the public every weekend. The woman who organised the exhibition was there and she told me about the latest sales and encouraged me to display more of my work for sale. I was inspired by the idea and returned home where I sorted through old canvases, deciding which ones I would paint over, ready for the exhibition next weekend. I went to a shop to purchase some art material and, upon paying for my goods with my new eftpos card, two hundred dollars was inadvertently debited from my account. I waited while the man reversed the transaction, crediting the money back to my account. The next morning, Sunday, B and I went down the road to a cafe that opened at nine. We talked about their late opening hours realising that it brought them their target trade. We had breakfast and went to the counter to pay. Again I used my new card and again money was wrongly debited from my account, this time one hundred dollars. The man pointed it out to me and I told him I would wait whilst he rectified the situation. Not sure of how to do it, he charged one of the younger workers with the job. She went to find instructions on how to proceed. The line grew behind me and someone else started serving the waiting customers. I waited for forty-five minutes, growing increasingly angry. Finally I found the young woman for whom I was waiting and confronted her. My anger bubbled up until I was shouting at her, telling her how long I had waited. As I shouted, she backed toward the cupboard behind her, her body disappearing, until finally, she evaporated and passed through the closed wooden doors of the cupboard, hiding deep inside. I felt sorry and called out to her, saying that I didn't think she was stupid, that I believed she could do a good job. The cupboard doors opened a little and I hoped she would come out. Instead, her two shoes stepped out - she was still invisible - and walked quickly away. I was alarmed that my anger had caused such an extreme response, but felt sure that I could right the situation.

escape

Running along a road, being chased by an enormous black male gorilla. He ran past the other gorillas, focussed on me. I ran as fast as I could, but it was clear that he was far too powerful to outrun. There was only one thing for it - go up. As he gained on me, almost upon me, I manifested flippers and used them to push off the ground and fly into the sky, flapping my flippers. The confused gorilla watched me from the ground and soon I had flown so high that he was a mere speck on the ground. I looked around and saw others flying, mainly in small hot air balloons. I didn't want to fly too high so I kicked my legs more slowly, ascending more slowly now. I enjoyed the sensation of flying whilst also wondering how to land.

warning

B and I were living in a house directly opposite the New Farm shopping centre in an old cottage that was in need of structural repair. It was night and we were sitting in the lounge room, watching television. B was waiting for someone to arrive with some important documents, so I was attentive to any sounds of visitors at the front of the house. Someone knocked at the door and I ran through the house, opened the door that divided the lounge room from the entrance, and called out, asking who it was. A male voice answered that he was the secretary and, without checking further, I opened the front door. A man of about fifty, balding with grey hair around the sides of his head and with a grey beard, wearing a dirty white t-shirt, stood at the door with a group of others lurking behind. He said he wanted a cup of coffee. I hesitated as I didn't want to let him in, but another man stepped forward and produced a cheap plastic stanley knife with the blade fully drawn. He threatened me with it and I could think of no way of preventing them from entering. Knowing I had no milk in the house, thinking that just maybe this might deter them, I asked how he liked his coffee and he answered 'black'. They walked forward - the two men and about three other people behind them - backing me through the house. B had heard them coming and was in the kitchen, putting the jug on. She too asked - urgently - how he wanted his coffee and again the man answered 'black'. It was, of course, a ruse to enter the house and I knew that B would be trying to think of a way to protect us. The man wielding the knife had me cornered, and I could do nothing.
I woke briefly and went back to sleep.
I was in a house where many people lived. Again it was an old house in need of repair. While the others were busy with their own business, I ventured out the back of the house and around to the side gate. The afternoon was darkening and I retreated, through the back yard which stretched out into the vacant block next door, with no fence to divide the two properties. On the vacant block I could see a woman who I knew was with the group that had entered our house in the dream earlier. I knew too that it had been a dream and now I recalled it like a warning. I hurried to the back door, but was cut off by the same man from the previous dream who had threatened me with the knife. Again he held a cheap plastic stanley knife with the blade fully drawn and he toyed with it, placing it to my throat and pretending to slash the skin on my arms. Again he wanted to come in.
The dream skipped forward and I was inside the house, safe from harm, but quite upset. I found two friends who were also living in the house. They were both friends from my school days and I knew they knew me well. I need to tell them about the experience. I explained the first dream as though it had been a harbinger, and then told them, in great detail, about the second occurrence.I felt that had I listened to the message of the first dream, that I wouldn't have been faced with the danger twice.