The Prediction Dream from July 23 2000

This is the journal entry I recovered recently in unpacking and repacking. I had forgotten I'd wrote it and I think I had meant to because I'd torn it out and hidden it in another book. Strange what a person will do to keep the status quo. The gentleman mentioned in the dream, Sandy Respess, is a person of great consequence and influence to both Alan and me. We both used to work for him. He had a voice like God would use on the radio.

July 23, 2000

Restless, Restless Night!
[I] laid down at 4:16 am to sleep and did nothing but wiggle until the sun came up. Drifted in and out for a bit—had to get up and pee twice—then began dreaming. Loud, vivid, full-color dreams, but strange.
#1 Tarot and Sandy Respess: One of the “readings” I did last night with Megan didn’t strike me as a reading for her, but if for my life, it was very accurate. We were laughing because the cards interpreted a sad, semi-violent past with a strange father-figure influence and an obvious description of Alan: “Dull, timid, smug…” Even Megan said, ”That sounds like my DAD!” “OH NO!”, we both said because the card was in her love life pile. I thought about this after I woke up after this dream and realized that reading wasn’t for her—it was about me! I just got the deck last night.
So, in the dream—I am 36 (It turned out to happen when I was 39-I'm now 40) and slim! Buff, even. Sexy. I am back in school and having a fabulous time at it. I feel a big strain on my marriage to Alan. He is fat as ever, he is as inconsiderate, obtuse, narrow-minded and still unable to say one good thing about my work, my body, my spirituality, or my writing without backing it with a stinging, hurtful comment. I have decided that, as a Gemini, he will always be two-faced and speak out of both sides of his mouth. I am not attempting to change this or control it through guilt-mongering in our few conversations, but I feel like I am damaging myself staying with him. I am in a saddened state in our marriage.
We aren’t making love any more often than once a month and my libido is strong, but it’s not Alan I want. As it happens, I tag along on a job Alan is to do at a company that Sandy Respess is at now. Sandy is most definitely impressed with my improved image, but he can sense all is not well with Alan and I (me?).
Somehow it gets finagled that I go to lunch with Sandy alone. Whatever Alan is working on is too fragile for him to leave it yet.
Sandy and I talk about his life, our kids and their accomplishments. Then we are in his car and back at the company parking lot. We didn’t go to lunch until late and now it’s rather dark. There is an old woman shuffling from one doorway to a small outbuilding where she locks it. Sandy drives the car near her and she hands him an enormous set of keys. Then she slowly shuffles away. Then, as he begins to pull into a parking space, she comes out of the same door again and shuffles her way toward the little building again. Sandy shrugs at me and reverses the car to go hand her the keys. While we watch her go to the building and go in, Sandy says to me –out of the blue—How do you plan to keep Alan as your husband and still find fulfillment in your own life?
I stutter for a minute as he again pulls into a parking space. He looks into his rearview mirror and backs up again to where the woman is and takes the keys. She thanks him and begins her slow walk to the offices again.
“Alan is a good guy—don’t get me wrong—“, he begins again as we pull back into the parking space, “but you are never going to be happy with him.” He goes on: “I am the last person to advocate a divorce for anyone’s marriage, but you are stunted by his lack of growth and fear of adventure.” The old woman comes out again and heads for the little building. Sandy shifts the car into reverse and begins following her, backing slowly through the parking lot. When he gets close enough to her she comes to the window and gets the keys again. I am dying of curiosity about this [ritual] now, but am focused on what he is saying to me.
I am uncomfortable with agreeing with him, because I love Alan, the kids, blah, blah, blah. I tell him so and Sandy looks at me and says, “No heart is as broken as your own when you deny it everything it needs. You have been broken then [I think he meant all thru my past] and maybe now it’s too late.”
Sandy is slowly following the woman’s progress towards the main building again and she toddles over to give him the keys again. He continues back to his parking space. We sit in silence for a moment, and then the old woman comes out AGAIN and the whole thing is played out again. She shuffles along, Sandy reverses the car, negotiating the parking lot, draws close to her and gives her the keys and she goes to the door of the smaller building.
She comes out again and heads for the place where Sandy’s car will be close to her and gives him back the keys. We pull into the parking space again and this time I get out of the car. The woman shuffles by me and I get a close look at her. She is looking like me fifty years older. She smiles a little sad smile and says, “I just can’t do it”, and then goes into the main building again.
Sandy has gotten out of the still-running car and comes to me laughing. He puts his arms around me and hugs me tight, saying “You have to set yourself free while you can still be like this—“ and I am blinded by his soul, his aliveness, his manhood, his desires, his passion for living and his wisdom. It’s fully a psychic-spiritual thing. [*I recognized myself, my own soul in him.] As I walk away, I ask him about the keys and the little building. “What’s in there? What are the keys for?”
“The keys belong to the emperor. And she seeks her freedom. I give her the keys to all the doors and she only ever makes it past the first few. Then she gives up. But she can try all she wants,” says Sandy.
I ask, “Who is the emperor?”
I look up at him and he starts laughing. He now has a long red cloak, trimmed in ermine. The keys are huge and golden. He is shining, laughing and his face is still kind.
“I am.”