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Dream: 2.7.2018

February 7, 2018

I stayed up all night, periodically checking to see if the ice storm had started yet. Went to bed at 5:30 a.m. Woke up in a flurry around 10 a.m. to write down elements of this dream. Back to bed for another 3 hours. Rain all day, but too warm for ice.


Another train & getting lost dream, but with a twist: poop.



Someone had given me a mandate to collect several days’ worth of my own poop, box it up, and then take it somewhere to discard it: bury it, compost it, whatever. Initially I meant to bury or compost it, but as the dream went on, I found myself putting it into 2 small clear plastic bins, and transporting it with me, looking for a place to dump it.

(I had been on a bus, carting around a bunch of stuff, so had put my bins, clearly labelled, on the floor by my feet. Two women sitting behind me saw the labels, and commented loudly about how gross that was. I then covered the bins up, and awkwardly exited.) Whoever was to run across the poop later, I wanted them to know what they were dealing with, but not that it was mine, or could be traced back to me.


I accidentally boarded a train going to an unknown destination. Along the route, I paid attention to station names, but none were familiar. I became aware that a far-away stop was “Heckett Ridge, New Jersey”. At one stop, I left the train to get a snack, but it pulled out before I could get back on.

Then, I wandered around the town I was in, looking for a way to get back on a train going in the same direction, even though I still didn’t know the destination, or even why I would be trying to go there.

A woman I found near the train station, after asking me a bunch of questions about my route, and where I was from, confidently proclaimed, “Oh, you got on at Hunt Valley then”. But when I thought about it later, I was sure I hadn’t. That it had been Warren Rd. or somewhere in Timonium. I was still puzzled how I’d gotten on a train at all, as I certainly hadn’t intended to take a trip that day.

I kept walking, looking for people to ask directions of. I avoided many people that seemed unfriendly or hostile. I did find several individuals and groups that tried to help me, and directed me a bit further on my journey.

One woman told me to ask a group of exuberant friends who were on a boat getting ready to leave on a night cruise. They vouched for me when the boat left unexpectedly. I enjoyed the cruise so much that I sought out the crew so I could in fact buy a ticket and legitimately be there. After hearing how I ended up on their boat, no one told me the price or asked for any money, but the captain gave me a ticket stub, a handful of dollar bills and coins, and (what I determined was) a salmon patty.

I left in some confusion, only then remembering that when I’d packed the poop into the bins, there’d been no bathrooms nearby, so I’d resolved not to touch anything until I could thoroughly wash my hands. But here I was, with a food item. Awkward.


On the cruise, I was conscious of my red camera… somewhere… and my phone camera in my back pocket, but it was too much bother to get either of them out to take pictures, even though I saw many amazing, beautiful sights. I just enjoyed them with my eyes and other senses.

I also became briefly aware that most the luggage I’d originally had with me was gone, and I had no recollection of purposely disposing of it, so either I’d accidentally left it somewhere, or it had been stolen. Somehow, though, I wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Everything was as it should be, and I kept right on, peacefully.

The cruise made a scheduled stop at a place where the passengers could climb a sheer cliff(?). It was very dark, which should have been alarming and dangerous, but instead I found myself charmed by my companions, and the view.


Back on the streets of a town, in daylight, under a complicated series of bridges/overpasses(?), I saw a small stream in a concrete channel {arroyo style?}, with a sign proclaiming, “Here is where you cross the Rio Grande”. I was astonished, as I’d been firmly sure I was somewhere in the US Northeast, so how could any part of the Rio Grande be here with me?


First Notes:

The poop stuff should have been gross, and smelly, and gross. But it wasn’t. I was conscious that anyone else, running across my poop later, should know it was human poop because of germs and whatnot, but I wasn’t worried about germs at all (except for wanting to wash my hands so I could touch things afterwards).

If I had buried or composted it, no other human beings would likely have interacted with it, which may be why I elected to carry it with me, and then dump it where people congregated. This sense of it being a resource of sorts — not letting it “go to waste”.


On the train, I was conscious of “being from Maryland”, even as I was being carried farther and farther away from it. I was curious and interested in this unlikely journey, but I didn’t fret about my identity or whether I had sufficient money with me or how to let someone know where I was.

I didn’t spend time or energy trying to figure out where I was going; I just enjoyed being in the moment, on that train.

When I got off the train, I enjoyed those moments, too, whether walking, or on a river, or climbing a dark cliff. Talking to people, or alone with splendor and my own company.


Salmon patty ~ Salmon of Knowledge?

Rio Grande ~ New Mexico, but also maybe beloved water bodies, which can be as small as a stream.


Next Notes:

I’m carrying less baggage than I used to, and therefore, can enjoy traveling more.

My skills of observation and judgment are good enough for the life I’m leading. They show me snippets others miss. I don’t need to collect ‘proof’ of where I’ve been and what I’ve seen {photos}; sometimes all I want is just to be there.

fish (ocean); river; River. WATER; MOTION; FLOW.

Darkness, not-knowing. {Tethys} Chthonic?



Next next Notes:


“Arriving” at Congruency is rather different than I’d guessed it would/might be like.

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