Fear and Dreams

I'm living inside the police state, basically. I work across the street from Citigroup (the epicenter of evil???). I have to open my bag every time I get to work for the bored and over-dressed security guards (suitcoats on humid summer days, poor dears) and pass police cars diagonally parked in "ostentatious-paranoia-inducing-'emergency'" (OPIE) mode. The whole thing around these turdor alerts seems pretty OPIE-dopey if you ask me.

It's having an effect however. Yesterday, I meditated for a little bit, but I fell asleep. In that unusual sleep-mode, I had a dream where I was at a friend's place and we were complaining about our irradiated produce. He had a cabbage that kept growing and growing and elongating along the way, while I had a turnip that sprouted tentacles and berries!

I've had dreams that have been scary portents before, even a couple that have involved the corner of 53rd and Lex. In one, I dreamt New York was being attacked by aliens. In another, I dreamt that 3 of my co-workers were being arrested right out in front of the building. These dreams were from a couple of years ago, but I wouldn't be surprised if they actually were premonitions of things to come. Interestingly, in the arrested co-worker dream, I had the sense I was long-gone from the scene. In the alien-attack dream, I eventually made it home where my block was being attacked by our own guys, it felt like. Every third building was being bombed, and each building to the left of the bombed ones was being overrun by soldiers. I decided to head North-by-Northeast in the dream. (Albany??? Interesting.)

I know in my heart of hearts that I'm all right, that we are all just fine. But my child-self gets a little afraid, now a lot more. There's also the whole aspect of my parents' aging. I've been thinking about my near future and my further future, though it's difficult to think of the latter as I feel we are already in Philip K. Dick overdrive as far as necriferous empire goes. Near-term I can imagine myself in Devils Lake, NoDak taking care of my parents as they get on in years. I'm the logical candidate of my parents' children to be caregiver, and sometimes I feel scared of that and other times I embrace it. It's difficult to imagine myself out in Lawrence-Welk-Land, eking out some sort of existence amongst the elderly Scandinavian farmer set. I think I'd have some support, from uncles and extended family and what-not, and who knows? I might even find people who'd genuinely welcome their oddball Manhattan-fancy-ass gay IV-LEEEEEEG edjumicated cousin/nephew. (Golly!)

And I can see that I'd like it out there, sorta. At least I'd like the ability to meditate and to get to know myself on a deeper level, even though I suspect I'd grow quickly bored. But I don't need to prejudge my experience before I have it, and I don't need to create a negative expectation either.

Of course these thoughts occupy my headspace as I get ready to head out there, but I have to remind myself It's only for a week. What could go wrong? (Even with the aforementioned fear scenarios, I wonder if I ought not take my Kitzelbitzel with me, and prepare for the worst re: NYC's temporary attractiveness to authentic terrorists during this Republicuntvention upcoming.) (My cat would drive my folks crazy, but I'd have him, just in case.)

I have a sense I'm being led, and that everything is really all right. Plus Canada is only 90 miles away. There's clearly hope...