Wednesday, September 28, 2011

SUCH STUFF AS DREAMS ARE MADE ON



Last night, or rather this morning, just before I woke up, I dreamed that I was staying in an apartment in London, where my sister, Gayle, and her family were living at the time. Their children were still young. The time was near for me to return home, and I was gathering my belongings together and trying to work out whether I had time to cram in a couple of activities, like going to a play or visiting a museum before I left, but I was having such difficulty organizing my stuff that nothing like that seemed possible, which frustrated me quite a bit in my dream.

When I awakened, I thought my sister was still alive, and then I realized that she was gone. Bummer! What a start to the day. I have tears in my eyes as I type these words.
Prospero:

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.


The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158
The photo above is of Gayle during our trip to London a good many years ago. We were visiting the Tower.

19 comments:

  1. very sad but good to have loved so much

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  2. Ann, yes indeed. The thing is that I feel that I never truly appreciate the relationships until they're gone, even though Gayle and I had many good times together.

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  3. I feel that way about my brother who died a year ago. Just thought we would go on forever.

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  4. Just as your previous post made me laugh, this one made me cry. Holding you all in prayers and sending you a big hug.

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  5. Ann, I know you know what I mean.

    margaret, what a dream, indeed, but it was the waking that got to me.

    BTW, my sister and her family never lived in London. The setting was such stuff as dreams....

    Erika, thank you so much.

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  6. What struck me --and like Erika, made me cry, was your line: the time was near for me to return home...

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  7. Oh the dreaming and waking. Hope you can take comfort in your dreams.

    This struck me oddly somehow, the fact that when just the photo appeared in the pop-up from Google Reader, I recognized it immediately as Gayle, before I had even begun to read. I'm not sure, sometimes, what this internet thing is all about when our lives sometimes orbit close together and other times far apart, yet Gayle, whom I never met, is someone I know well enough that this image conjures up so much that you have written and told about her. I know you will always feel her absence upon waking on these days on earth, but thank you for sharing her presence in your life, then and now.

    Kathy

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  8. Oooh margaret, I didn't even think of that. Wow! The layers upon layers of our dream lives! You know, with Jung, I do believe our dreams have meaning beyond a replay of the events of our lives. How can I say that a dream that leaves me melancholy for the better part of a day has no meaning?

    Klady, the picture of Gayle has achieved a measure of fame in our virtual circle. I know this: Our internet community is true community, and I am sometimes awestruck and beyond grateful by the closeness of the relationahips, whether we've met in real life or not.

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  9. I love it when loved ones appear before us -- in the realife or everyday, or not so much, they make me happy. Blessings to you and Gayle on your visits, now and before.

    WV: mouse
    ¨not a creature was sturring?

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  10. When I popped in for my afternoon fix I recognized the photo instantly and felt a twinge. So a cyberhug to you, dear Mimi. I feel Gayle is hugging you too if you have a dream about her.

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  11. You remind me of another line from Tempest, "... that when I waked, I cried to dream again..."

    When I first saw the picture above I thought it was the Close at General Seminary, looking towards the chapel. Visions, dreams, memories -- these are the stuff which we are made on!

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  12. Jung says that all the people in our dreams are aspects of ourselves, and I'm inclined to believe that is true.

    Thanks, Leonardo. My sister was years ahead of me in full acceptance of LGTB persons. Though she was the younger, I learned a lot from her, and I feel that my advocacy for justice and equality for gay folks is a continuation of her legacy.

    Cher Paul, thank you. You're always there with your hugs and sweet (or naughty!) words.

    Tobias, to your other quote from The Tempest, 'Oh yes!' That's how I felt when reality broke in.

    The Norman Chapel in the White Tower in London is one of my favorite places. It seems such a haven of peace in the midst of the bloody history of the Tower.

    JCF, hugs back to you, m'dear.

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  13. Hugs from me too, Mimi, and Ann is right, it's good that you had a sister who loved you and who you loved so much.

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  14. I find it always a surprise when a dream takes me back to other days in ways I don't expect. The surprise seems to be the gift of remembrance of someone loved even if the remembrance holds a bit of sadness in it.

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  15. Amelia, the dream was so ordinary and everyday, which made me think of how we take relationships for granted. I know you lost someone close you you recently, and you mentioned wanting to pick up the phone and call him, and then remembering that you couldn't. I did the same thing for about a year with Gayle, because we were in touch nearly every day, either by phone or online.

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