I am frequently amazed by my dreams. Usually it’s the detail, tonight it was the architecture.

I’ve read that dreams are the mind filling in the activities of the day, resolving conflicts we likely aren’t even aware of consciously.

But sometimes I wonder if that’s all they are.

Tonight’s dream was more of a hidden fantasy. Though I suppose it’s no longer hidden.

I was back in the Seattle area. But I’d gone to a university in Canada, I think in B.C., to talk to an advisor about transferring and starting a doctorate program in marine anthropology/biology.

The architecture of the school was nothing like it is in reality. In my dream most of the buildings on campus were modern, but low, somewhat dark, standard school buildings. But the anthro dept building was of museum quality. Double high ceilings, wide aisles, airy floor plan, open, huge desk/office areas for the professors, “exhibits” were part of the building. It was a walk through the eras and mysteries of the world, as an everyday environment. It was beautiful. Somehow a part of my mind kept thinking that there were Martian influences from Ray Bradbury.

As I was searching for the anthro building, which was somehow very well hidden while in plain sight, I entered one building to find a receptionist. I asked her for directions and received enough of an answer that I was able to figure out a general direction. But the strange part was her talking after me telling me that since I was a native tribe I had to go through some other department, that I wasn’t allowed to approach the anthro dept directly. I ignored her but had the same thought processes that I do in real life when someone assumes I have native Indian blood. Not bad thoughts, but wondering why people think that, then deciding to take it as a compliment rather than what many have intended it as.

I remember thinking, on the edge of dreaming, right before I woke up, how beautiful the space was, how indescribable, and how comfortable a space it was despite its openness, how it was so comfortable and safe that I had fallen asleep in one of the many open areas, absorbing the history and the future, how I could feel the space around me but I wasn’t afraid.

When I woke up I felt the space around myself and was confused. When I woke a bit further and matched the space around me to the present time and location.. the loss was jarring.

A fantasy. And aren’t all fantasies stories of loss and redemption?

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