Even in my erotic dreams I’m evolving

My dream mind has a way of protecting my everyday self from its explorations. Let me give you an example.

When my dream goes fantasy sexual — beyond Ann, as there are many that plow this ground too, so to speak — all of a sudden my dream self is single, unatttached, without a hint of the existence of our marriage. I don’t know how this is accomplished so convincingly, this calving off of the psyche, but it is convenient for the narrative I suppose. Doubly convenient when I awaken and recall of the dream storyline trickles back to me.

This dream of a few days ago was different. Ann was in the dream and oddly, weirdly, unexpectedly — she’s not one I think of in waking reality — so was Nicole Kidman.

We seemed to be on a volunteer vacation, in an environment reminiscent of an ashram, where we tended to very young children, the orphaned and the dispossessed I believe. This is as elevated as the dream gets, the rest resides in the lower chakras, if you speak that language. If you don’t, focusing on the term lower should help if you’re lost in translation.

Nicole Kidman supported the compound and was there managing all of our interactions, us being the staff and those of us who were there volunteering. All the women were topless, including Ann and Nicole, wearing sari skirts. This is a dream, so you’ll just have to go with it. It all seemed quite natural, in the way Tahiti seemed natural and sensual to Westerners when they first arrived there.

An arrangement had somehow been made between Ann and Nicole — with the understanding between all of us that we had an open marriage — for Nicole and I to get together, intimately, at some point very soon. So there we were, doing our work at the mission, with Nicole and Ann floating about, among others. I remember gazing at them, thinking how lovely each was . . . but then coming to the realization I couldn’t go through with it . . . my love and attraction to Ann were too overpowering . . . 

The dream ended there. I awoke marveling at how even my dream self evolves. It was no longer the dream self of my randy youth who’d remained at the party for too long. 

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