What in the world was in that cough syrup? I thought codeine was supposed to be a mild opiate...Do mild opiates induce wild and vivid dreaming? Here are the two that I remember:
My co-workers and I were hanging out outside our balconies. I turned toward the mountains and exclaimed at the view. Suddenly, everything had turned a light muddy color, as if a photoshopper had clicked on the sepia-tone option on the scene before me. The mountains were of this color, and so was the sea- for now, we were no longer standing in front of our balconies, but on a sandy shore by the sea. The sky was filled with thin, white clouds strips that were scattered all the way down past the mountains and into the sea. I stood amazed because I had never before seen clouds scattered in this manner, descending so low into the Earth.
Suddenly, the clouds began melting. They oozed down from the coffee-tinted sky and morphed into strange, penguin-like birds, still misty and hologram-like from their cloudy nascence. Curious, I started approaching the misty penguins. They were so cute! I thought. Rather than shying away, one of them waddled toward me, threw itself onto my right leg, knocking me down, and latched its beak onto my calf. I lay there in the sand, crying out for help, and one of my co-workers came and tried to pull me by my arms away from the murderous penguin. When he saw it wasn't working, he got up and walked away to go find a first aid kit. You bumbling idiot! I thought. Just pry the penguin off with your hands, you ninny! I lay there in the sand trying to reach down and pry the crazy bird off myself, and woke up suddenly. I was face down on my couch with my legs in the air, crossed and really tense.
I swear, this dream has something to do with my kindergarteners. Awww, look how cute th- argh! ARGH! They're trying to kill me! Get them off me! I realized I've compared my KG's to several different species of animal by now- sheep, puppies, and now killer cloud penguins. Believe me, they are all of these, and more. Sometimes I wish I could just give them each a boost of codeine, or a quick pinch of the tranquilizer, but neither is allowed, which is why I have to resort to insidious means of making them sleepy and more manageable, such as this phonics-friendly lullaby (sung to the tune of “Hush little baby, don't you cry”):
Shene sells seashells at the seashore
Shahan sells fish at the seafood store
Hush little baby, don't you cry
Mama's gonna buy you a fish with no eye.
Shhhhhhh....shhhhhh....
Shene sells seashells at the seashore
Shahan sells sheep at the butcher store
Hush little baby, don't you cry
Mama's gonna buy you a sheep with no eye.
Shhhhhhh....shhhhhh...
In my next dream, I was shopping around at a Costco-like warehouse, when suddenly, I saw my first grade teacher from Arlington Elementary. She saw me a moment after I saw her and called me over, immediately pulling me into a giant hug. She was so glad to see me, she said. She'd always wondered what had happened to me in all these years (it's been 18 years!). She gave my tummy a friendly, nostalgic rub, saying she'd always loved that tubby watermelon tummy of mine (Yea, yea, I was a chubby kid, let's all forget that now). We wandered around the store, catching up, and suddenly we weren't inside Costco anymore, but walking along South 74th street, my childhood street. It was nighttime, and the navy sky was clear of clouds. As we walked past my old apartment, I pointed it out to my old teacher. “This is where I used to live, and remember that corner where old Mrs. Manacough used to stand every day to help us cross the street?” When I parted from my old first grade teacher, I felt regret. I'd wanted to take a photo of us together, but totally forgot, and what if something happened to her before I saw her again?
I woke up soon after, and thought about this dream. I don't remember being particularly attached to my first grade teacher, or any of my kindergarten/primary school teachers really. I was always a shy kid, and not much of a hugger, or an openly affectionate person. I began thinking of my kids, and what sorts of impressions I was leaving with them. How much of everything I do for them would stay in their memories 18 years later? All these songs and games I make up, the stickers, balloons, and other prizes I give out from my “magic coat”, the special objects I bring into class to show them. Shells, bells, chestnuts, imaginary ice cream cones, and cd's. I barely remember anything from kindergarten myself- naptime, bible verses, learning my address and the alphabet, and my teacher's wedding, during which she cried, and I sat there in the pews wondering why.
Right now, as their teacher, I make up a huge part of their world, just because they spend more time with me than almost anyone else, even more maybe their fathers who are busy with important jobs. I even got a call from one parent last night because his child wanted to say good night to me before going to bed. Yet, I know that 18 years later, few of all these impressions will remain in their memories. The memory landscape, from such a young age especially, is like an archaeological ruin. You find bits of pottery here and there, broken chunks of columns, ruins of an empire that was once grand and whole, but which now only shows remnants of the whole experiences of the past. Early childhood experiences, like empires, they come and go, leaving only fragmented testaments to whole days of hard work and stress and fun and crying and laughing, playing and learning.
Sometimes it feels like a waste of time because of this fleeting nature. But then I remember that there is nothing in the world that stays with you forever. Everything and everyone is subject to the wearing effects of time. Look at what remains of Persepolis in Iran, or the great Incan empire of South America, and especially Mesopotamia, the cradle of civilization, aka Iraq. What they have left is a crumbling citadel-turned-slum. Teachers, friendships, and crushes come and go; empires come and go; and if you want to wind the clock up way back, whole species like neanderthals, and dinosaurs and the lives of stars- they all come and go. And later perhaps the universe itself will go. Beyond that, there is no time, of course, so coming and going becomes irrelevant.
Back to reality. I got two whole days with no killer cloud penguins...Peace out! (Time's a-tickin'.)
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