a time of passing

In a church, waiting for a show to begin. I sat in the front row, wearing a long purple dress. Purple flowers in a bouquet rested on the pew beside me. It became evident the ceremony was to be about me. Was I getting married or witnessing my funeral? I looked around the crowd and, apart from my family, I could not see a familiar face. I lay down on the pew and someone placed my niece and nephew on my chest. Although in waking life they are adults, they were smaller versions of themselves - the size of newborn babes. I cradled them against me. After a moment, some music began and my niece and nephew became my sister and my brother, who, resuming their actual size, climbed off me and, together, we ventured over to where a small audience was gathered around the musicians. My brother immediately went into the fenced area to sit on the floor and listen. My sister stood outside for a moment and then followed him in. I wanted to join them, but, not liking the music, I instead walked up the aisle and out of the church. A larger crowd again milled around the church grounds and beyond. I found a sandy park and, there, I threw a ball, back and forth, to my dog. Slowly, people gathered in the park, mostly doing their own thing. A man caught my ball and used it to perform magic tricks. He spun the ball around in his hands, threw it in the air and caught it on the tips of his fingers, moved it through the air without touching it, using the electrical power emanating from his hands. I was mesmerised for a while and then, suddenly, I felt urgent about finding my friend. I ran out of the park, asking people had they seen her, and ran through a festival with hundreds of stalls selling food and trinkets. I searched the rows of stalls, my urgency growing. I saw another friend minding a stall: she called to me, but, in my haste, I waved and ran on, hoping she would not mind. Running past the church, I wondered about my brother and sister, but felt that no matter where we were, even should we pass on from this life, we were connected. So I ran on, across a road and into a huge stadium. Hundreds of people lined the curving walls, applauding the finale of a show. I tore through the crowd and, as I went, I called my friend's name, my voice echoing against the emptying stadium walls. I could not find her.

shark

I was walking on the shore of a shallow sea and my brother was swimming, not too far out. I saw a fin curve through the blue, and then another. I called out, hopeful he could hear me; hopeful they were dolphin. He swam back toward the shore as more and more black fins appeared. I saw they were sharks and one rushed at him as he climbed out of the water and stepped onto the shore. I screamed and he turned in time to wrestle it, casting it back into the sea. He was alright, but his hands and arms were cut from the sharp teeth of the shark.

my brother sings

I was in a room with many other people - perhaps a library, perhaps a church. I could see my brother standing with two other men around his age and an older man who was a musician and producer of some note. The older man held some kind of recording device and played a few chords of music, asking the younger men to sing. First one man sang, his voice gentle and high, the melody dancing around the chords, then the second man joined him, his voice similarly sweet and high. Then, as directed, the two men stopped and my brother began to sing, his voice deeper and sadder. From his body, as he sang, came a palpable vibration that resonated throughout the room. People who had been talking ceased talking and sat in silence. A few of us - my mother, sister and father - drew close to my brother, placing our hands gently on his back, feeling the vibration and supporting him. The older man recorded his voice, the vibration, and knew he had found something unique.

three dreams

Three dreams -
One: A friend was voluntarily locked in a room. I tiptoed around outside the room, doing my best to be silent. I collected glass after used glass from the floor, all of them drained of one or another alcoholic drink that my friend had consumed. Wine glasses, champagne flutes, beer glasses and empty bottles; I collected as many as I could, setting them upon the sink, doing my best not to wake her.
Two: My friend shouted at my brother over the telephone. I was appalled, outraged, and would not let it be. It was as though she had attacked the most precious, most vulnerable part of myself. I insisted that she call back and apologise; not until she had done so would I even consider continuing any kind of friendship. She called, the other members of my immediate family present. She apologised, but insincerely, without actually taking responsibility and with no remorse. It was not enough. I did not believe her, or sense any kind of true understanding of her actions, only that she did not want to be punished. My mother and my sister backed me. We all wanted her to call again and truthfully express her apologies at having vented so misguidedly.
Three: I was driving my car, attempting to park at a venue around four in the afternoon. The venue carpark was closed and so I drove around the nearby streets, searching for a park. I wanted to find somewhere close and well lit so that once the event had finished, I could return to my car quickly and safely. I saw someone leaving a great spot, directly opposite the venue, on a corner. I drove easily into the park, but, once there, realised that it was reserved for buses and other commercial vehicles. I left and drove around a couple of streets, each taking me further from the venue and increasingly dark. I saw what I initially thought was a great park; certainly easy to get in to. However, while driving into it, I looked around and saw that the surrounding houses reeked with bad energy. I senses danger. I looked back to my park too late and drove straight into a pit that had opened in the road before me. I dropped through the ground into darkness and, immediately, my car turned into a bicycle and I caught it between my knees and grabbed onto the side of the road so that I hung from it, and my bike hung from me. I waited there for someone to give me a hand up. I thought that, should they come, I could pass them my bike (which I knew to really be a car) and then climb out of the pit with their assistance. I did not want to fall, knowing that it would be into the unknown.

averting disaster

I was in my bedroom, toying with what appeared to be a paper shredder. There was a long slot at the front designed to receive paper before shredding it and depositing it in a tray. I had pushed my hand into the slot and was now desperately trying to extract it, hoping my fingers would not be mangled. My brother appeared in the doorway, but he was many years younger than his real-life age; in fact, he was just a child. I called to him and asked him to help. He quickly checked that the power was off and then we pulled my hand free of the shredder. I picked him up (he was only small) and he wrapped both his arms and legs around me. I kissed him on the head and told him I loved him, rocking him gently.
The scene skipped forward and we were both in a giant building made of ice. We understood that there was a tremendous amount of water stored behind the walls and ceiling, and that, though safe right now, the situation was quite precarious. Someone was singing and we moved about the space, gliding around as though on an ice rink. Suddenly, the person singing punctured the ceiling with what I think was a knitting needle, cracking the layer of ice between the enormous body of water above and everyone below. Panic. Everyone wanted to get out of the building at once. My brother (still a child) and I rushed to the nearest exit and began sliding on our bottoms down the narrow corridor of ice, aware that the wave of water behind us was mounting. The line of people sliding with us started and stopped, people getting stuck in crevices and snared by ice build-ups. When I saw that my brother was struggling, I started to sing a song about letting things happen, allowing life to take its course and energy to flow. Somehow it helped him, and others around us, and we all slid effortlessly through the rest of the tunnel, emerging into the daylight, safe at the end.

learning

I swam in the ocean through the night, arriving on the coast of Sydney in the early hours just before dawn. I found my brother on the shore - he was much younger than in waking life, little more than a child. I took his hand and led him through sandstone passages and down rock stairs, taking us on a walk through a reknowned university. He marvelled at the architecture, at the golden stone, and at the early morning light reflected on the walls. Already, the grounds teamed with life. Students walked along the corridors, across green-grassed squares, heading somewhere. My brother wanted to go there, to learn. I pressed my forehead against his and we could feel the vibration of energy, of thought, our skulls buzzing.

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.