"Don't you know I had a dream last night, that you were here with me" --Jim Croce

Years ago, I told a shrink that I didn't think the sessions were helping and maybe I should stop. He told me that if they weren't helping, I ought to set up more sessions, not less. Irritatingly, he was right. At some point, you start to peel enough of the onion that you get to the strange stuff. And some of that strange stuff may prove important.

Or just strange.

So it seems with NaBloPoMo. File this in the not funny but maybe strange enough to be interesting column. I'll bring the zany tomorrow. Promise.

Many years ago, I was in a Master's program and got a chance to take a class with a really effective instructor. Most of my instructors knew their stuff but weren't what I'd call dynamic. This guy was interesting from minute one. I loved the things he dug up and brought in to share with us. It was a marketing class and he was chock full of studies and theories about the brain and human behavior. Great stuff!*

Early in the semester, he shared that he had been in the military and that the military had done some experiments on him and some of the drugs they used might have affected his brain. Okaaayyyy. For what it's worth, he showed no signs of kookiness or paranoia, so, I believed him. And he was nothing short of a brilliant instructor, so maybe the drugs had done him some good.

One week, well into the semester, the night before class, I dreamed about the instructor. It wasn't a sex dream but the fact that he was in my dream, outside a classroom setting, was intimate enough. In reality, the only thing I found attractive about him was his ideas. But there he was in my dream. It was what I'd describe as a lucid dream; everything was hyper-real.

The next day, I woke up remembering the dream and thinking how strange it was that I'd dreamed about him. Quite frankly, it's a little embarrassing to have strangers in your subconscious. I, very decidedly, put the dream aside and went about my day.

That night, I got to class early and he immediately walked over to me, which was unusual.

He, looking perplexed and slightly alarmed, said: L.A., what are you doing to me?

Now, you have to admit, that's a mighty strange question coming from an instructor. I could have said the truth: "Nothing." But why miss an opportunity to mess with somebody?

I smiled sweetly and said: What do you think I'm doing to you?

He looked at me for a few seconds, shook his head, chuckled, and walked away.

I didn't mention it again and he didn't mention it again.

I got the distinct impression I wasn't the only one who had had that dream.


Questions du jour:

1) Would you let someone do experiments on you that might alter your brain? For country? For bucks? For some other reason?

2) Have you ever had the feeling that someone was messing with you on a psychic level?


* (To quote HIMYM) Have you met my friend, Ted? These days, I get a lot of mind-blowing ideas from Ted.