This dream caught me by surprise. I spent the night before the 2004 election like many others, watching, waiting and praying.
In the morning, before I knew the final result, I awoke with the following dream embers. Maybe you can help me understand it… I saw a television clip that was both sad and amazing. A humpback whale and her child are somehow hovering in the air, covered in oil and lava, and breaching again and again in anguish behind a barbed wire fence.
I enter the dream, pass the fence and am in an oil refinery compound that is situated on an ocean coastline. The ocean shore and waters are all black with oil. Standing on the sticky black beach, I saw a pod of whales coming towards the oil slick shore and thought they were just going to beach themselves.
A wise woman appeared and said that whales respond incredibly to a type of hypnosis-communication called Romanieme. She then counted to 4 in this latin-like language and the whales seemed to respond. They perked up enormous eyes at her from the water and then started hovering out of the water–literally swimming 12 feet in the air.
The pod of whales, males, females, and babies hovered into the factory, covered in oil, searching, searching. They were searching for a home, healing, searching for some sympathetic humans who could right the wrongs, restore their health, their homes and give them a place to stay in the meantime.
Thinking I’m responding to the humpbacks’ call for help, I fly like superman to find a solution and land near a house where a group of four 13-year-old girls are smoking. I feel like a cop but I don’t have a uniform or weapon. I had some kind of badge in my pocket, which I flashed to the girls and began some kind of fire-prevention/ anti-smoking operation.
The girls flicked their still lit cigarettes on the ground and languidly giggled inside. “Knock, Knock.” Again at their door, I flash my plain-clothes badge to mom, and explained about fire-prevention. I pointed to the smoldering cigarettes on the ground, where a small fire already had appeared at the base of a near-dead tree.
I helped mom put out the fire and left with the group of young people–the four 13yr-olds and a 10 year-old, afro-clad boy with an attitude. He reached under the back of my shirt, to my confusion, then suddenly pulls up the rear lining of my boxers and all the kids laugh. I grab his underwear and return the favor, then kick one of his shoes into the back of the other calf–a trick I used to do in Jr. High to trip up my friends. He stumbles. “Hopefully he’ll learn his lesson,” I grin.
We rhythmically walk into the city and startled to find an oil-covered humpback whale, glistening black and grey, floating through the city flanked by a baby whale. What is she looking for? How can we help?