Dreamed last night I had a love-child with a giant sea-turtle. The baby was not viable--they said it had bad pneumonia and they would have to kill it, and they did. With knives. I had blood spattered on me and was wearing bright flourescent green eyeshadow. Red and green.
I was upset about the baby, and exhausted. I was teaching that weekend at Esalen, but I also had to get the turkey in the oven for Thanksgiving. I asked Gillian if I could borrow her cell phone and she said sure but I was so tired I could not dial. I kept trying to press G's number to tell him to go over my house and put the bird in the oven, but I kept falling over before I could press the buttons on the phone.
Woke with relief--bright sun, gorgeous day. Mental note: no more caffeine after 1 p.m. It's the first time I've dreamed that I myself had a baby in a long time--I often dream about babies, but since I've passed into my mid and now my late forties, it's usually someone else giving birth to them. There was one great shot (in the dream) of my lover, the sea turtle swimming, waving its flippers.
Perhaps one of the messages of the dream is that it's best to mate with other mammals. Or maybe a reflection of the fact that I never did get my swim in yesterday, I just worked like a ned at the computer all day, polishing up the one-act play I wrote in boot camp and then emailing it to various theatre/dancer/director friends. .
This morning G and I went out and played tennis, with $5.00 rackets bought at the Goodwill. Neither of us are all that good--he's rusty, and I never had any skills to begin with--so we just ran around the court, lobbing balls at each other, trying to get a volley going, and having fun. You can learn a lot about a person from playing a game with them. I learn about G that he's fair, considerate, and a team player. I learn about myself that I still have some character flaws that could use some work.
For instance on difficult shots, when I have to run for the ball, G says encouragingly, "You can make it," and then I do. When I lob the ball high high in the air and it sails overhead and out of bounds, he says, "Wow, you could show movies on that flight."
I, on the other hand, use language inappropriate for courts which border on a playground where young children are taking turns on the swings.
It's a beautiful fall day: red and yellow leaves, browning at the edges and turning crispy. Clear bright sky--it rained last night and washed the air. Lake Merritt looked startlingly blue. The warmth of the sun almost feels like summer, except that the leaves of my fig tree are turning yellow and brown--in a month they'll all be gone. I ate the last two figs from the tree today. The persimmons came and went. The rains have begun. The days are short.
I'm grateful for: HEALTH, first and foremost. My own health, to be able to make a fool of myself running around a tennis court, and have something left over afterwards.
I'm grateful that my father is alive and in good health and enjoying his life more than ever in his seventies. I'm grateful that my family is all okay, no one dying of any incurable horrible diseases right at the moment. For my friends who are going to come over in an hour and eat and drink and play music and celebrate with me. I'm grateful to whomever invented Prozac so that I could actually live my life instead of just suffering through it, and very grateful to my doctor for diagnosing and treating my depression when I was so used to it I wasn't even hoping I could get better anymore.
I'm grateful for Wing It! and for Interplay, grateful I have a place to go and people to engage in deep serious play. I'm grateful for New College and Writing Salon, grateful that I get to do work that's in line with my passions, grateful for my sweet students, and for the community of artists around me (you know who you are,) whose creativity nourishes my own.
I'm grateful for jazz and blues, and quilts, and dark chocolate and champagne and hot tubs, and good books, and wonderful movies. I'm grateful to the writers and actors on The Sopranos. I'm grateful for Harbin hot springs, and that I live near the ocean and in Oakland, a city I love. Grateful for food, hot water, a swimming pool, this computer I can write on. Grateful to still be here, after coming through so many storms.