Dive into Dreaming

I'm not stranger to wild, elaborate dreams, but there was one that stood out as particularly potent. It happened several months ago, but I still remember it vividly. Many joke about the intricate story structure of Inception, yet going to deeper levels of consciousness may just be possible! I had a dream within a dream, and it was...terrifying. Maybe it’s because I woke up a bit unassured that I wasn’t still asleep, or maybe it was because of the poetic mythology it conjured for me. 

In the dream, I was at a fraternal brother’s house during a day time house party. Many friends were over for some chit-chat over beer and burgers. I was sleepy and snuck off to a sunroom where I fell under the spell of a mid-afternoon nap. I found myself dreaming of a seashore (interestingly enough, I had this dream while vacationing at the beach). 

After venturing out for a swim, I soon felt the undertow getting stronger and stronger, pushing me further and further away from the sand. I fought as hard as I could, but soon my legs were knocked out from under me and I was under. The waves threw me about like a ragdoll, and the current drug my wet kitten form far out to sea--I was probably miles from the shore! I vanished beneath the chaotic surface to find an eerie stillness in the darkness of the blue. An enormous shadow emerged from behind and I found myself circled by an enormous Great White. It’s midnight eyes starred blankly, although I felt it boring holes through my soul, and in my mind it spoke. 

“I’ve got you here with me. You’re mine. Every time you sleep, I will hunt you, and one day I will find a way to trap you here with me forever. I’ll find you, boy. I’ll find you.”

I awoke in terror, still in the dream of my brother’s sunroom. I left to join my friends at the party. I was soon greeted by a good friend of mine, Ellison Berryhill. Now Ellison is as merry as they come. No stranger to camaraderie or corny jokes, he's certainly a charmer. Not only that, Berryhill is a bit of a golden boy. Highly involved, high marks, and now beginning law school, calling him a "good egg" would be an understatement. “Mr. Wilson!” he exclaimed. “21 now, I believe? Let’s have a beer!”

Ellison and I sipped our brews and went for a stroll through the sunny haze of a nearby field. After a while of walking and talking, Ellison stopped dead in his tracks. I strolled a few feet forward before realizing that he was no longer keeping up. As I turned, he spoke again, this time with a deadness in his voice. 

“I’ll find a way to keep you here, you know. With me. Maybe I’ll use sleeping pills or tranquilizers, but I’ll figure it out. You can’t run forever.”

I stopped mid-turn, then slowly faced him. Ellison’s eyes were black as night and he smiled as he spoke.

“I am the shark.”