On December 4, I was scheduled to start the Landmark Forum, an event I didn’t really want to do. (More on that in a later post.) I had a brief dream the night before:
I was in a building with a high arched ceiling with glass skylights. Sort of haphazardly placed around the large room were false walls, the sort that went halfway to the roof but not all the way. Each wall had landscaping — ferns, moss, flowers, trickling fountains — and barely audible New Age music was playing.Then I woke up.
It felt like a 1970s/1980s sci-fi show set, something from Logan’s Run or Buck Rogers.
I was talking to two guys who were also there for the Forum. We all had on name tags and one had a black bar on his, an indicator of someone having taken the Forum before. His name was “Belief”. The other guy was named “Don”. (I’m not sure if we were all wearing form-fitting jumpsuits or not.)
Some chimes rang, signalling that we to go in to the start of the Forum. As we filed into some other room, Don and I noticed that Belief had vanished. When we sat down, Don had also vanished.
Jeez, talk about your blatant and ugly symbology: that Landmark was New Agey and sci-fi, that any “Belief” would vanish from me, and that anyone (anything) else I knew would also vanish and I would be left alone.
The next night, my dream was Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song “He Thinks He’ll Keep Her” repeated over and over and over.