please stop tickling me

In which we laugh and laugh and laugh. And love. And drink.

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Friday, August 19, 2005

Jairus

He's back. My spirit guide. Like I say, I ridicule people who believe in shit like this, but you know only what you know when you know it, and...
My spirit guide is a large black man who appears in my dreams. My first encounter with him happened eleven years ago, during a time period that was particularly bad for me. I was awakened from near sleep by a vision of him, wearing aviator sunglasses and a fatigue jacket, leaning in a car window, talking to me: "Now, evah-thing's gonna be all right..." I woke up laughing.
About four years later, I had a dream in which I was a member of a temple that was stealing from the temple. I was sitting in the chapel, eating pretzels with mustard and drinking a beer. In church. Other black men in suits kept approaching me (I suspect that in the context of the dream, I may have been black, too. I didn't look in any mirrors) and saying that what I was doing looked pretty good, and, "I gotta try some 'a that!"
They didn't reproach me at all for getting drunk in church, and I was confused about this. In my revery, I felt a large hand descend on my shoulder. It was the guy from the car window again, this time attired in a white shirt and blue-and-gold turban.
"How y' doin'?" he asked.
"I'm just so confused," I said.
"I know you feel like yer not doin' right," he said, "But just keep on doin' what yer doin'. You doin' jus' fine. Just...Come and see me, sometime."
When I awoke, I knew what this was. One friend suggested to me that it was God. Since I don't believe in That, I wondered what it might really mean. Certainly, it meant that I viewed the part of me wherefrom all the good stuff emitted was being neglected. In this case, for reasons I may later be okay talking about, 'God' was wrong. I had not been doin' just fine, and should have stopped...Except that maybe I needed to get fired from that place, to break up an obvious blockage in my life...Hard to say.
The other night, I was experiencing a dream (I never dream lucidly. It's always really happening, in my perception, no matter how strange) in which I was some sort of security officer at a small college somewhere. There was a developmentally disabled janitor who had mistakenly made off with an extension cord that one of my supervisors had needed. She took what I felt to be too much pleasure in chastising him. He said, almost on the verge of tears, "I thought it was mine..."
I still felt like nothing had really gone down there that needed my comment. I could have said something, but that would have led to another two hours of conversation with my clearly irrational and mean-spirited supervisor, not making things any better for the janitor, and probably losing me my job. And if I didn't have my job, how could I stick around and keep an eye on her mendacious ass, no doubt soon to make a far bigger mistake, which I could then burn her ass but good on? I owed it to the powerless to make sure that this control freak had someone to keep her in check.
Not long after this, I'm getting lunch (still in the dream) somewhere nearby. The guy at the checkout is this large black man in drag. I recognize him. "Hey Jairus! Nice hot pants!" I say.
Yup. He's wearing these sparkly short shorts that strongly resemble the 13-year-old-girl pants I purchased last summer (and only wear when I am feeling sassy).
"How you doin' these days, Rich?"
Immediately I start babbling. "Can't stand people. Don't wanna touch 'em. Don't feel like bein' with 'em. All that chatter." I make the 'chatter' motion with my hand. "Don't like most've 'em. Even the people I love."
He smiled and nodded, but offered no advice that I can recall. He was too busy, these days, ringin' up groceries.
God's too busy accepting new dead. He also has acquired a name.
I now recognize that this person has appeared in as many as four dreams of mine, lately. I don't remember any of the rest: this one happened during one of my nights of weird sleep in which I pass out, initially, then awaken circa sunrise, putter around a bit, or read, then fall back asleep for three hours or so. He's back. He's there. Jairus. Funny thing: I could use a bit of advice, and absolutely no one else in my life is qualified to give it.

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7 Comments:

Blogger Erudite Redneck said...

I was thinkin' this was a Black Dale Earnhardt sighting until the part about the girly pants. I don't think the Intimidator would wear short shorts.

4:16 PM  
Blogger carrier said...

Whiskey makes a dandy make-up remover. Right now I'm trying to disgorge the image of you in sparkling short shorts. Heidi Klum, Heidi Klum, Heidi Klum...

5:04 PM  
Blogger rich bachelor said...

About those pants: they're the kind of thing that I could get away with if I truly was a rock star, instead of thinking I was one. They sort of stretch to fit, and leave nothing at all to the imagination.
Now-as to why the guy in the dreams has suddenly become a drag queen...I couldn't tell you. America's pop culture seems a little crowded with them at the moment.
Maybe it's because he was really, really trying to get my attention.

11:13 PM  
Blogger carrier said...

I hate to keep revisiting those sparkly shorts...no, really I do...but because your spirit guide was wearing them I've got to believe it is you yourself. Despite all the blathering about this or that particular supernatural entity providing the path to spiritual enlightenment, in the end after filtering all the BS the only one that can make you rise to that state is yourself. Regardless of all the stroking of others, it takes inner peace or strength or whatever to truly make yourself feel right with yourself. At least that's the way I see it.

3:37 PM  
Blogger carrier said...

On the other hand maybe I really should go get myself some WD-40. But I'll check for polyps while I'm up there. I'm getting to that point in life you know.

3:40 PM  
Blogger rich bachelor said...

Well yeah, of course it's me. I just wonder why it is that I'm choosing to view that particular aspect of me in this way.

7:48 PM  
Blogger carrier said...

Well at least I got that part right. I guess I'm not sure what you mean when you say "a particular aspect of yourself in that way."

I realize this blog thing is cathartic and mostly rhetorical, but still I think whatever it is you're trying to figure out you and only you hold the answer to the question. And don't overthink it, life is too short to spend all your time thinking about it. But you know that, and I also know you aren't looking for any brotherly advice. It's just my two cents.

7:55 PM  

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