Here are last night’s dreams.
The first dream opens with a setting in a graveyard. The graveyard is a city one and is enclosed by walls. All the graves are very close together. It is winter. Around an open grave there are gathered mourners dressed in long dark coats, some of the men are sporting black hats. There are expensively dressed woman in black with veils. A funeral is taking place. There is a priest dressed in black with a white frilly outer coat. He has a bible in one hand and on the end of a chain a thing in which incense is burning. He is carrying out a service, waving the incense.
I see a large fairly ornate coffin being lowered into an open grave. The coffin is suspended from a JCB and some men are slowly lowering the box with stays.
Amongst the mourners are some “worthies” and a few others who I once knew. I know that this is my funeral and that my current body is in the coffin. I also know that this is totally bizarre. This is for two reasons. I have left instructions in my will that I am to have a no-fuss economy cremation and that it is extremely unlikely that there will be anyone whatsoever at my funeral. I have no desire for any form of funeral.
Once the box is at the bottom of the grave. The priest puts down the incense and starts to read from the bible. The mourners bow their heads. It starts to rain.
The dream fades.
The scene changes and the wife and I are in an alfresco restaurant under a large wooden terrace on the patio of a restaurant. It has an Italianate feel and there are grape vines adorning the trellis. The waiter dressed in white shirt and black trousers comes over to take our order. He speaks first in Greek and then in French. In the dream he is a relative, a cousin of mine from Sicily. The restaurant is family owned and staffed. He is very friendly to us.
He takes our order for starters and brings a bottle of San Pellegrino water together with a carafe of ice-cold local white wine.
They have been waiting for me to come home to Sicily for a long time.
The mother of the house comes over an sits at our table to tell us of what has been happening for the family. She jokes that I need to get some sun because I look a little pasty-white. It won’t do for the family reputation. She leaves us a basket of bread.
Slowly the restaurant fills up and the sun sets. The atmosphere is very convivial. We have course after course and the word has gotten around the village that I have come back.
Soon some musicians arrive and start to play.
The dream ends…
Dreamyoga 