Reality Dream
May 9, 2000
6:35 a.m.
I had a really powerful dream last night. It was one of those times when you're really there and everything is so real. In this dream I was in the middle of a group of people at some unknown convention or other gathering. We were waiting for a guest speaker. People were talking and milling about. The room was large and echoed with that low rumbling of voices that mash together in a single tumultuous roar. Suddenly people came to the stage. They were crying and dabbing tears. Without speaking, they pointed to monitors in the back of the room. The sound came up. The television showed pictures of people huddled together. Crying. Men speaking with rebellious ire. Jessie Jackson had died. It was so, so real. My first thought was, "Oh, my God. I hope it was natural." I don't remember the racial mix of people I was with. But I know there were black men and white men. Or, I guess I should say black humans and white humans to be completely "correct." The room buzzed with activity and voices. The rest of the dream was just a whirlwind of images and people moving. Throughout it all, everything was so real. I woke up in the middle of my dark bedroom, and I swear I heard people on my radio talking about Jessie Jackson and his life. I went back to sleep, then. But, when I woke up I listened intently to the news. I wanted to know more about this event. I wanted to see how people were taking it. I'll admit it. I guess I wanted to see the political fall out. Jessie Jackson is a controversial man. When he dies, it will be a controversial death. I found myself trying to understand so many things. I was very uncomfortable, because I couldn't seem to find a context for this event. I couldn't find a way to digest it. I wanted to know how it felt to be black. I wanted to know why I was so detached at times. I couldn't find out any details of Jackson's death, and I was swamped by waves of pleading desire. Please don't let it be an assassination, I kept thinking, and seeing images of Martin Luther King and RFK, two men who seem forever linked inside my head.   Deep breath time. I'm pleased to tell you that the reverend Jackson did not die last night. But my dream was so convincing, that I even turned the TV on this morning to see CNN and the news programs--something I never do. When it became obvious I had merely been dreaming, I had to stop and think about things. As of today, I am now 39 years old. This morning I found myself asking questions like "Who am I?" What am I about? But, mostly, I'm asking myself What kind of person do I want to be?  You've got to stop watching the History Channel, Ron Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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