Speaking of Dreams

The Anishnabek (Ojibwe) teaching of the dream catcher is a story of a spider’s protective gift. A grandmother, Nokomis, sees that her grandchild is about to kill a spider and she stops him. The spider, grateful to Nokomis for saving her life, rewards the woman by spinning her a magic web.

I can’t escape the whisperings. Even when I don’t hear the words, their intent lifts other words up. Their volume isn’t heard. It is felt.

My phone buzzes. “Come downstairs. I have a present for you.”

I walk downstairs and I find my friend by a table in her office.

“As part of her education, Kim made these dream catchers. I have one for you.”

I hadn’t been to the Allies meeting in months due to attempts at making other community work, work.

The spider tells Nokomis that the web is to be hung above her bed, as the web allows good dreams to pass through its centre and catches bad dreams in its silky threads.

I can’t escape the message. The universe wants me to hear it so clearly, that eventually even grammar catches up with me. Recently in Hebrew class, I tried to use the construct, “If they hadn’t _________, then __________.”

I stumbled, unsure about how to express hopeful uncertainty. Where had I written down my notes when I learned this sentence structure the first time? After class, I found the detailed notes.

I held the page open on my lap.

If. . .

If only. . .

The anchor for the sentence was the same across multiple conditional examples: past of ‘to be’ and present of the action taken (or not). The opening determined which path was open, just a chance or a chance to course correct.

I hadn’t practiced this content in a long time. That made forgetting easy.

Students asked questions. I half listened.

“It’s fantasy,” the teacher clarified.

Speaking of dreams. Sometimes, imagining. Other times reframing missed opportunities. So easy. Too easy. Decide. Just one action away. Is it an imagined action? Already missed? Not to be missed?

There had been a piece of Dove chocolate. I vaguely remembered words that made it seem like it was the first, and not the second construct of the sentence. I kicked myself for throwing the wrapper away before committing the message to memory. The message from the universe that the opportunity still existed.

After being caught in the web, the bad dreams will disappear with dawn’s first light and the good dreams, now knowing the path, are able to visit again.

I discovered one more piece of dark chocolate in the candy drawer. I tried to carefully open the red tinfoil. It curled and ripped, but the words were visible. One. Away. Dreams. True. This was the one. I peeled slowly until I could make out the entire sentence. You’re only one decision away from making your dreams come true. There were gaps, but the message held. Caught.

I placed the chocolate in my mouth. Rolled the sweetness across my tongue and the rough shiny edges over my fingertips. Then, I hung the dream catcher over my bed.