Dreams

So my last dream before I got up this morning, some Republican leader, at a bipartisan meeting of some sort, sparked up a “J”–a Mary J. Juana cigarette–and passed it to me.  Dan Quayle was sitting there, looking on in horror.  In my dream I was thinking of him as a Mormon, although on waking I don’t seem to recall he was.  I asked him if he had ever indulged, and he shook his head vigorously, and said no.  I said, “well, it’s probably better for your health, but it’s fun sometimes.”

In the dream, it was a political act, a calculated political act, and an intelligent one.  Wasn’t my idea, but I participated.

Here is the thing: I am hard pressed to say what Jeff Sessions has done right.  He refused to stop Mueller, he hasn’t fired Rod Rosenstein, he took over a year to launch an investigation into Crooked Hillary (if indeed it has been done now), he cost us a Senate seat, and now he has the colossal stupidity to launch a war not on marijuana, but on State’s Rights, which Republicans have been slowly making an issue of their own.  State’s rights is a return to honest Constitutionalism, which should be an issue that conservatives own.

I personally would like to see Mitch McConnell, on a visit to Washington or Colorado or California, spark up a big blunt.  It would get us the kind of publicity that wins elections.  Or so my unconscious seems to believe.

As far as myself, I have one bad habit already.  No need to replace it with what would likely, yes, be a slightly better one, but one that is still unhealthy.  I do think–and have said for a long time–that we should legalize EVERYTHING, allow States to determine what they are going to allow, and spend, like Portugal, all the money currently going to the DEA–which we disband–on treatment. I think neurofeedback would be great, as would job training programs, and anything that rebuilds something like a sense of belonging, of community.  Much useful research could be done, and much of it would apply to the larger “culture”–such that it is, which is our problem–as a whole.

I do, while on the topic, continue to be visited by what I will call demons. I was thinking last night that some people must have a lot of pleasant dreams, but I am not one of them.  There are variations, but usually I am sleeping in my own bed, or something like it, in a strange home, and something I can’t see which is close to the spirit of fear appears immediately above me in what feels very, very real.  It always feels like waking life, and being visited by an aggressive ghost.  Perhaps this is a distant memory of something that really happened.  I do think my mother screamed at me as a baby when I would cry in my crib.

But all of this gives me practice facing up to mainlined fear.  This is a difficult job, getting rid of the capacity for fear, from a place of having so much of it, but I am slowly doing it.  And this is a path–a long path, granted, but a path–to a much deeper peace than most people will ever have any chance of reaching.  My sleep is slowly improving.  My only sleep aids last night were Tart Cherry Juice and Black Walnuts, and overall it wasn’t bad.