Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Cathedral in NYC
In a big church, cathredral in NYC. Lots of people. Not a service. It's pouring rain, and the roof is leaking. I tell people to point their hands up to the holes where the rain is coming in. We have rays of light coming from our hands, and the holes in the roof get closed up. They think it's a miracle, I know it's magic. Some guy I know comes in from outside and I start to tell him how we stopped the rain from coming in and I realize we would sound crazy. Imagine what it would look like in the papers. I tell people to say we were shining flashlights help guys on the roof find the holes and repair them. I even imagine a little article in the papers saying nearby neighbors saw beams of light coming through the roof in the pouring rain and hope no one notices it.
Frances and I are walking around and admiring the church. There are some big statues in a connecting room that I think I need to take a look at more closely, maybe four or five on each side. Maybe one or 2 are women... maybe Mary, or Mary Magdalene, or Jeanne d'Arc?? I'm hoping they're not all men. oink oink Then I notice a big statue of a armored knight on a horse at the other end of the big hall. All of the sudden, it is galloping right at me at full speed. I am frozen, terrified. It rushes past very close, and I turn and they are coming at me again from the other direction. The horse charges at me again. And when I look again, the guy is throwing his lance at me. But it goes past at a slight angle and is buried into something not far away. I collapse in tears on the floor and Frances comes to me. I wake up, but I realize I must go and see what the lance was thrown at, that it would be significant.
Then I am trying to write all this down. As usual, I run out of paper, or the sheets are already covered with writing.
A woman walks by and comments that sacrifice is about self-interest. I say after her that not all sacrifice is about self-interest. Then it seems that there's going to be a funeral, and it's for this woman, and I wonder what they are going to say about her because she thought sacrifice was self-interest.
Frances and I are walking around and admiring the church. There are some big statues in a connecting room that I think I need to take a look at more closely, maybe four or five on each side. Maybe one or 2 are women... maybe Mary, or Mary Magdalene, or Jeanne d'Arc?? I'm hoping they're not all men. oink oink Then I notice a big statue of a armored knight on a horse at the other end of the big hall. All of the sudden, it is galloping right at me at full speed. I am frozen, terrified. It rushes past very close, and I turn and they are coming at me again from the other direction. The horse charges at me again. And when I look again, the guy is throwing his lance at me. But it goes past at a slight angle and is buried into something not far away. I collapse in tears on the floor and Frances comes to me. I wake up, but I realize I must go and see what the lance was thrown at, that it would be significant.
Then I am trying to write all this down. As usual, I run out of paper, or the sheets are already covered with writing.
A woman walks by and comments that sacrifice is about self-interest. I say after her that not all sacrifice is about self-interest. Then it seems that there's going to be a funeral, and it's for this woman, and I wonder what they are going to say about her because she thought sacrifice was self-interest.
