Sunday, November 9, 2008

Smokey the Bear

My last cigarette was September 1, 2008. Since that night, I have noticed a steady rise in my dream intensity. I thought I would share this dream as an example. My house sits almost at the top of a windy, cold mountain. It is nested perfectly inside an amphitheater of natural ridges. Giant chunky boulders crest the dirt like stadium seating. Groundhogs and chipmunks sell hotdogs and chuck peanuts at each other all day long. My two dogs are clinically manic from all the constant chasing and digging. We face the east directly and when the sun rises the entire house catches fire in a brilliant orange splendor.

I found myself standing in my living room. My surroundings were similar except a fresh large evergreen had grown outside my double-picture window. The tree was magnificent and stood twenty feet high. The branches seemed sculpted and jutted out from the trunk like regal soldiers. After we acquainted, a small wild cat with long gray fur came barreling down the ridge. It launched itself into the air and landed a few feet up the trunk. The cat was scrambling higher as fast as it could go. In the middle of wondering, my question was answered by a huge booming sound. Black and brown muscles covered in fur came tearing down the hillside. A giant bear, two stories tall, had grabbed hold of the tree and bent it completely over. Like a green slinky, the tree was resilient and kept a grip on the feline.

The bear was menacing. His teeth were stained, his fur was matted and dried drops of sweat sparkled. His fists were giant catchers mitts of rusted steel. He swatted them through the air like hot wet cannons. The bear kept falling against the house as he vied for position on the steep hillside. My home’s foundation was shaking from the menace. Glass shattered and shelves were toppled. Suddenly, the smell from my fearful breath seemed to catch its attention. It turned its giant cobra neck towards me. I was completely terrified. Its eyes were black as tar and just as sticky. If death had an expression, the bear was using it. It barreled up my front steps, collapsing wood snapped and splintered like thunder underneath its feet. The next thing I saw were the giant brown fists tearing and punching through my paper-thin walls.

I yanked myself out of the dream and landed on my bed with a huge thud. My dog was perched like a sphinx watching over me. His tail wagged concernedly. His head cocked sideways and panting. He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking. Boy, did I want a cigarette.

6 comments:

curious girl (lisa) said...

you think there's a real one out there in your foresty home?

stay safe...

(clearly, I am a city girl.)

Claire said...

scary and you have captured it!

Angela said...

Isn't it amazing how our minds know when we've had enough of a particular dream...and yank ourselves out of it back into the real world??

I don't care how many vicious beasts come after you in your dreams....don't grab for that pack!

Signed....
Your best stop-smoking-cheerleader

(p.s.) I hope your next dream is about Smokey the Bear!

Chris said...

Weird! Sounds really intense but interesting.

Congrats on the stop-smoking campaign. I know it's hard work and I give you kudos for that :)

Caroline said...

JT you are an awesome writer. So vivid. So glad you quit smoking. I wonder what that bear was trying to tell you. Hmmm. Cant wait til your next post. Cheers..

jtrue said...

To me, the new evergreen tree outside my window symbolized my new lungs (3 months smoke-free). The bear was nicotine incarnate. My house being torn to shreads was my will power. Thanks for everybody's support! I should have quit years-and-years ago.