Here is last night’s dream. It is out of the blue. I have no idea where it came from. It is nothing to do with our normal day to day life.
The dream opens in some British institutional / quasi-corporate setting. A smartly dressed man who feels like Tim is there. He has taken me to one side to have a “chat”. His body language is conspiratorial. He is almost putting his arm on me, around me. He is preparing me for some meeting, some committee. He intimates that “we” have decided to put you forward for a particular role as a gesture but would like you to accept that role and then immediately stand down. It has all been decided. He is sure that he is superior to me and confident in my compliance. I do not overtly accept and he takes my silence as going along with it. It is all political a bit cringe.
I am now outside at the edge of a wood /parkland near town. I meet a man coming out of the land who has a shock of blonde hair and country camo style clothes. He has the feel of geography teacher or environmentalist. He says that the level of pollution there is terrible. On his travels he has visited the most polluted town of earth {Kabwe} and that what he has seen here is nearly as bad. I go over the road and into the land to inspect.
The scene returns back to the institution. It has a parliament / Whitehall feel. In session is the pre-committee committee. It is very English. In which the business and outcome of the overt, exoteric and public committee will largely be decided before. Those who are “in” make the decision here before it goes out for wider “discussion”. The committee has been set up to give the impression that something is being done. But like most committees it concludes little new and does nothing though it believes otherwise. There are a number of big cheeses sat around a table, maybe a dozen or so people. There are politicians and senior ranking UK academics. It is all very pally. The man from before is there. Unexpectedly I walk through the committee room via one door and out the other. They halt business and watch me simply walk through observing them.
The scene changes back to a large committee room which has a table around the outside in a square shaped “circle” for the delegates. It is in a large hall and there is plenty of space around. Off this hall is another one in which an even less important committee will sit. The number of delegates there is much higher and they are much younger. As the cheeses file out of the inner sanctum and start sitting at table others are arriving. There is a hub-up. I take one of the chairs with a red seat and stand upon it. I start to speak.
“Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention please.”
They all turn to look at me slightly horrified.
“I am about to save you a lot of time. I was approached earlier today and made an offer to accept a position and then resign for public consumption and the record. There is no need to do this I resign now. I want it noted for the record that I do not agree with what you are proposing for the polluted land. As someone who has lived in and grown up in Kabwe, {true statement} I think what you are doing about the pollution in hiding it is wrong!”
“Perhaps all the lead dust there has made me mad…”
“We all know that committees and inquiries are set up to give the impression that something is being done when nothing is. Many of these committees are simply illusions set up to kid others and those involved. I suggest that you have only one resolution. And that resolution is to keep things exactly as they are. Because that is what you will find and decide anyway.”
I step off the chair.
The people continue to gather and sit down. I go to the matriarchal head of the committee. And ask her is she understands that they are kidding both themselves and others.
I have interrupted the order the agenda of the meeting by walking out.
In the next room I am with the younger delegates. I explain to them that committees are arduous. But if they want to get some things done they need to learn how to play the game.
A young black girl, early teenage, gestures to me to ask if we can have a chat. I go with her to the edge of the room and into another room. She is joined by her brother. She is explains that she has a difficult situation and is asking if I can help. She suddenly falls silent. Her father appears.
We go outside and he greets me. I can see healed machete slash wounds on his forearms. They are all South African. He ask me if I am military. I say that I once tried to join the Royal Marine Commandos. He takes this as a yes. On his open top Suzuki Jimmy there are Cape Town number plates. Which he can change into others by pressing a switch. The plates revolve. He is menacing to the children but not to me. I ask where we are going. He says that we are going to the township. I know that he means Lesotho.
The dream ends.
Dreamyoga 