This morning I woke with a prophetic dream. When I pushed the light button on my Timex Ironman, I saw that it was 2:35 in the morning. As usual, I had gone to bed at 6:00 the previous evening, so even though I woke early, I had enjoyed a restful sleep. All of my dreams have some relationship to prison, and the one that woke me this morning was no exception.
In the dream I was racing against the clock. Carole was scheduled to visit me. Since prison rules only allow me to spend one day each week with my wife, I cherish every minute of our visiting opportunities. The prison where I was serving time in the dream was unfamiliar to me. It was large, requiring an insufferably long time for me to run from my assigned housing unit to the visiting room. When I looked at my watch I was wearing in the dream, I saw that it was after nine in the morning. I panicked because I knew that Carole was waiting for me in the visiting room and I was so far away. I began running to her and I encountered numerous locked gates, doors, and other obstacles that were keeping me from her. I felt as if I were running at the speed of OJ in that old commercial for Hertz.
I arrived at the visiting room and a guard would not let me in because he said it was his cigarette break. I knew the look he was giving me, as if goading me to object. He inhaled deeply, smirking and challenging what I considered my indomitable will. My heart was pounding in my chest as the minutes were ticking away. To challenge the guard would be futile. I reached my hand to my chest to press it. That was how I woke, with my hand pressing my chest.
I sat up in my rack. Before I hopped down, I thought about what the dream may have meant. To me, the message was one of time. No matter how long I had to share with Carole, this prison term would not leave me with enough time to enjoy all the splendors of her love.
I began writing early. I spent several hours working on the sample chapter that will accompany the new book proposal I’ve begun writing. This is a lengthy project, and I expect to devote several hundred hours to the work. I find the writing therapeutic.
Between my writing hours, I ran 10 miles. Today I ran at a faster pace because I felt so eager to resume my work. My tally now stands at 1,033 miles over the past 117 consecutive days.
Wednesday, 8 April 2009
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