Tales of the Golden City

For quite a few years I transcribed my dreams.  I kept a notebook and pen at bedside to be ready upon any wakening, in case my just-interrupted dream was still reclaimable.  Many of these records are in high detail, and go on for pages.  In general, the sooner I wrote it down the more detail was accessible, but practice did increase my longer-term recall as well.

I don't do it anymore, and for much of my thirties I didn't seem to be dreaming at all (or at least not in any memorable way).  But lately as I've been considering some major life questions, dreams have been forcing their way back in.

A couple of weeks ago, I dreamt that I should tell my boss to take some time to reflect and think about his future.  I didn't, but two days later his boss lost his job, and my boss was thrown into a tornado that has had a noticable impact on him.

Last night, I dreamt -- without TMI-ing -- that my next move in life was in fact the beginning of an initiation of sorts.  This view seems designed to help me gather strength for my return to an important place in my life.

A recurring theme in my adult dream life has been the Golden City (as I've come to call it).  While many of my dreams seem to take place in urban environments, some of these have a particular kind of vividness that sets them apart, and I know even as I'm dreaming them that they take place in this City.  (Take what HDR does for an image, and extend that into the dimension of an entire experience, and that's kinda the idea.)

I associate this Golden City with one real city, although many parts of other cities belong to it.  That real city is where I thought I would be moving every year for the last four, and it's there that I would expect the full breadth of this initiation to present itself, if it exists.

But I think I'm going somewhere else instead, because geniuses don't rely on mere logic for fundamental life decisions.

That was sarcasm.