Early this morning I had a strange dream. In the “beginning” I was back teaching in the 1970s. For some reason I decided to go round the class and take a look at each group of pupils. It turned out that a girl was ill and needed to be carried out.
I continued my tour: most of them were whiling away their time doing next to nothing. One of them requested my help and I duly obliged. Oddly the “classroom” was now located in an open, grassy field with brick walls but no roof.
Presently I found myself in the staffroom, and a tannoy message blared out. Apparently a policeman was here to see me about his son! A (false) memory crossed my mind of me hitting a lad for misbehaving. I dashed down the corridor.
Suddenly I was outside the massive concrete and glass school campus. Ahead of me was a “Spaghetti Junction” of criss-crossing motorways. I turned to face the school. A secretary ran out. “You’ve just missed him! Ah, no, he’s waiting for you down there.” She pointed to my left, down a dark pedestrian subway.
Without hesitation (silly me) I marched into that morbid alleyway. There was graffiti and rubbish everywhere. Yet there to greet me, and shake my hand, was a middle aged policeman in rather a modern, American style uniform. He gave me his name and I tried to make a note of it. Somehow I was now carrying an assortment of diaries and notebooks, but somehow I could not find a blank page.
The policeman told me not to worry. He thanked me for helping his son all those years ago. That was real teaching, he said. Now he was a young policeman who offered his support, put his arm around me and gave me a big hug!
“I’m lucky, I have my whole department to back me up. You are on your own. Come and see us solve some murders. Then you can go back to class and really impress those young punks with your knowledge.”
At this point I woke up. What a dream! Okay, so I have been watching a DVD of Waterloo Road, Series One. And Waterloo Road on Wednesday of this week. I can see how such viewing might make me dream about teaching.
Yet how can my own Subconscious, Unconscious, Id or whatever come up with such a surprise? I really was expecting to encounter an irate parent there. Yet I was offered lots of support instead! How can my own brain keep things from me like this then spring something new on me like that?
My Id shocks and surprises me an awful lot. They say your subconscious remembers every detail of everything that you experience. It is a wonderful thing. My “mind” gives me false memories and story lines, to completely dupe me into God knows what. I’m just glad my Id was in a very kindly mood this morning.
Lucid dreams? Very rare for me. I seldom realise I am dreaming, until it is too late! And What Dreams. As I keep saying. I hope I am making progress in my head there.
Paul Butters
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