I dreamt that I had a conversation with Barry
Meyer. I hadn’t seen him in years. His face looked just like I remembered it—boyish
and bright, hair combed neatly. I noticed that he had grown. I felt short,
looking up at his face at the top of a tall body. He was at least a foot taller
than I remembered him, with a confidence that matched his height. He created a
strong visual image.

Barry committed suicide in 1981, when we were both
sophomores in college. So I asked him how things were in heaven. He was
non-committal, which I took to mean that I would find out for myself.

My high school girlfriends, who also were friends with Barry,
were with me in the dream. They were surprised and shocked to see him. They
gathered around him. One of my friends, normally shy and reserved, kissed him
on the cheek, as a way of welcoming him.

Photo by Capture Queen

And yet the moment was fleeting. Barry was gone as quickly
as he appeared. To which another friend, lamented that it wasn’t fair—there was
nothing to hold on to. I responded without hesitation that Barry was still here,
in the air surrounding us.

I knew this from my experience with Ilene, who died just two
years ago, in 2006. While I miss Ilene,
I don’t yearn for her. Since her death of ALS, she’s been just a few planes away,
in a dimension that I could not see or hear concretely but could clearly sense.

Photo by alicepopkorn

Ilene pops up in a song that I hear on the radio, in a
favorite quote that I send to a client, and yes, sometimes in my dreams. She had
a quirky sense of humor. I was not surprised that in a dream several months ago,
I looked at her and told her how lucky she was to be dead. I then explained, “I
keep getting older. But you, everyone will always think of you as the same age.”
It was pure Ilene.

Sometimes, dreams inform me of my fears. Several weeks ago,
in a dream, I found myself working as an employee at a large company. I wondered how I had gotten into that
situation. It was a nightmare. Some people worry about losing their job. I
worry about having one.

Dreams tell me about my identity. This dream was an
indication of how far I’d gone down the road as a solopreneur, working for
myself, with all the benefits, risks, and freedoms. Mostly, at this point, it
feels like benefit and freedom with very little risk.

I have lots of dreams where I’m trying to achieve something.
It’s not Sisyphus, pushing the rock up the hill. Rather it’s the US in Iraq,
where it takes time and patience and an alternate way of thinking to make
progress. The picture is complex. Dreams allow me to play out at night what
daytime can feel like.

Photo by Porcelaingirl

Dreams help me resolve my own life issues. A decade ago, I
was in my thirties, in therapy and excavating everything that had been baked inside
of me during my childhood. I had a dream about my father, who died when I was
thirteen. The ensuing decades had frozen our relationship as child to parent. We didn’t have the chance to develop a relationship as two adults.

In my dream, I approached my father in the kitchen, who
stood on a step stool, putting dishes away in a cabinet. He
turned around and addressed me with the demeanor of one adult to another, not as a
parent talking to a child. He saw me for who I was, a grown up woman with a
responsible career and a family of my own. I made peace with dad in that dream.
I knew it during the dream and when I woke up.

What have you been dreaming about? And how is it informing
you in your life?