For as long as I can remember, up until my mid to late 20's, I had this recurring dream, that I was a soldier in the US military. It was always a very short dream. As soon as I would find myself participating in this experience, I would almost instantly be shot and killed. I am not sure where this dream came from, and I am not sure why it stopped presenting itself, but I do believe in the power of dreams, and that real experiences influence what we live through in this altered state of consciousness.
As I continue my research into today's American Dream, I think about my dream, living and re-living this very American truth. War is real. I truly believe that is recurring dream is the reason I am so against violence and war. I have never thrown a punch in my life, and I do intend on changing that. Just like I do not intend on owning a firearm, or taking such power into my own hands, when so many already do so, with no reason other than to protect themselves from the people that they refuse to even try to understand, to get to know, to converse with, to break bread with.
This piece tells my story while thinking about the dream of coming home to our own warm and cozy bed, where we can lay down our head and get much deserved rest. This is not a reality for so many these days, and for an abundance of reasons. When I was younger it was the nightmare of this American reality that kept me up at night, and continued to do so for 20+ years.
I choose to appropriate this scene from Saving Private Ryan, because it adds a small bit of humor to an absolutely terrible situation. It is with humor that we are often able to cope or begin the process of grieving, healing, and growth.
Lucky Bastard. 8:30min