MAKE THE DARKNESS CONSCIOUS

 

 

“People will do anything... to avoid facing their own souls. One does not become enlightened by imaging figures of lights, but by making the darkness conscious.”

—C.G. Jung, Memories, Dreams and Reflections.

DREAM: The Gerbers (December 17, 1989. Three months after my memory returned.)

I am making a movie of "The Old Gringo." There is a love scene, and a famous actor is my co-star. They put us in bed and start running a camera placed at the ceiling across the room. The movie actor kisses me on the breasts. I look down and cannot see any breasts. 

The director is a woman, and she wants our figures to make a silhouette on the wall. She holds her hands up to show where she wants us to move on the bed. I am on top. (Here, I leave out part of this dream because is too graphic.) I start crying because I am embarrassed and uncomfortable. It is hard to do, but this is a movie, and this sex scene must be in it.  

I look up at the window next to the camera. It looks out on the roof, and I see birds. At first, I think they are thrushes. I then decide they look like bald eagles. Momo, my grandmother, is there and I ask her what kind of birds they are. She says, "gerbers." I don't know about "gerbers," so I look in my bird book. 

For a few years of my life I was a bird watcher. Many of my dreams have birds in them and I believe they are metaphors for different kinds of people. For example, a bald eagle is a powerful bald man. A thrush is a metaphor for "thrust" or rapist, and an orange and black bird is a metaphor for a "witch," or one of the mean women who took care of me. 

Momo was my grandmother in real life. I stayed with her for a while after I was returned home. I think "gerber" is a metaphor for "pervert," which she called the people who abducted me. 

One of author Carlos Fuentes’ greatest works, The Old Gringo, tells a partially fictionalized story of Ambrose Bierce, the famous American writer, soldier, and journalist. Bierce disappeared mysteriously in Mexico while living among Pancho Villa's soldiers. During this time, he had encounters with General Tomas Arroyo. I had read some of Bierce's stories while in college. 

The book was made into a movie starring Gregory Peck as Ambrose Bierce, and Jane Fonda as Harriet Winslow, a fictional Yankee spinster working in Mexico. She has an affair with General Tomas Arroyo played by Jimmy Smits. Directed by Luis Puenzo, the movie was panned. 

The movie was released on October 6, 1989, one month after my memory returned, and I had this dream two months later. Neither Gregory Peck, nor Jimmy Smits, are the famous movie stars mentioned in my dream. 

 

I Thwart a Crime

Moreno Valley, California, 1997

Last weekend I had some free time between going to the bank and a hair appointment. Rather than return to my apartment, I parked along the side of the road and ate a banana. I was listening to Dr. Edell (a well-known 1990's Los Angeles radio doctor) and minding my own business, when I noticed a man in his mid-twenties walking by secluded entrances of town houses, behind a high chain link fence. He appeared to be trying to break into a house. He had something in his hand, and he was prying at the window and door.  

Ah ha! This looked suspicious. I decided to observe the proceedings and bore my eyes into his back. I hoped if I gave him the evil eye, he would know I knew he was up to something. I could stop a robbery.

He evidently felt my eyes on him because he turned to me and yelled, "Can I help you?" 

I didn’t respond but kept my eye on him, giving him my most knowing and meaningful look.

He yelled again. "Can I help you?" 

Obviously, he hadn’t got the message. I rolled my window down, and yelled back, "I'm just watching you,"and rolled my window back up. He then placed the window screen on the ground and slowly walked away.

Ah ha! I was right. This was a culprit, without doubt. Now what to do? Because I didn't know the address of the house, and there had been no crime (I had seen to that), I decided to drive over and report the incident to the complex office, all the while keeping my eye out for the miscreant.   

When I couldn't find the office, I drove up to two white-haired elderly ladies walking a poodle and asked for directions. "There isn't an office located here, can we help you." 

I explained I had observed an attempted robbery and I wanted to report it. They became excited and their body movements indicated they wanted to be part of the action. "Which house?" they asked. 

"I can't tell you, but I can show you?" 

One lady got in my car while the other followed with her poodle.

"There's the pathway," I said, and pointed.

We got out of the car, and tiptoed down the path, looking each way for the scoundrel. Sure enough, at the doorway, the screen was on the ground. She knocked. No response. What to do? Write a note. We returned to my car to get paper. 

Suddenly a garage door opened and out walked the criminal!

"There he is," I yelled, pointing. The ladies’ heads jerked up. Then, behind the villain, two other women emerged. 

What? The culprit lives in the house?

Facing the innocent man, I put my hands on my hips and said in my most exasperated voice, "I thought you were robbing the house."

"I got locked out and was just trying to get in," he said.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" 

"What do you mean?' 

"Well, what do you think I thought when I saw you trying to break into the house? Isn't it obvious that what you were doing was suspicious?"  He looked at me like I had lost my mind. Everyone laughed. 

Disgusted, I got into my car and drove away with profuse thanks from all. "You are a good citizen!"

Ah, time for my hair appointment. I had just killed fifteen minutes.  

 

 Clown I ran into on the street, who agreed to let me photograph her, circa 1980.

Onward and upward.