WANDERINGS THROUGH THE MINDVERSE
Listening to Nightmares

________________________
Note:
This e-mail might be somewhat disturbing.
Discretion is advised.
_________________________

And then the horrifying e-mail I feared arrived.
Subject line  "Game over w/ Nicolas Gleason-Boure."
Checkmate again.
I added yet another defeat to the ignominious streak of losses to my son
Nicolas, a graduate student at the University of South Carolina.

And then a follow up e-mail arrived.
Subject line "Challenge from Nicolas Gleason-Boure."
With a despairing sigh, I promptly opened the e-mail and accepted, even
though the outcome was a foregone conclusion.

To explain why I subject myself to this humiliation, I must tell you about
one of the worst nightmares I ever experienced.

It happened a few years ago and though I am not certain about the date, I
will never forget the details.    In this dream, Nicolas, who is far
smarter than I in real life, survived a serious accident in a chemistry
laboratory.   Those details were vague, but I  remembered that he
experienced such a profound loss in cognitive function he was unable to
care for himself.    The University and our family had agreed to a
substantial financial settlement that was generous enough to allow me to
remain home with Nicolas full time.    In the dream, I also started smoking
again.

This dream, like most, was based on wish fulfillment:  actually a triple
wish fulfillment.  I had plenty of money, I was smoking again, and I was
smarter than Nicolas.  You see, in real life, I had started to harbor a low
grade resentment toward my son, whose mathematical aptitude far surpasses
my own.  I had originally aspired to become an astrophysicist.  However,
despite assiduous efforts, I was unable to attain the requisite level of
mathematical proficiency necessary to fulfill this ambition.    Nick's
proficiencies,conversely, will enable him to achieve any lofty aim.

And, so in this dream, I was taking care of Nick in our old home in Windham
and all was well..except for 1 p.m. each day.  That was the time I sat on
the back porch and smoked continuously for about an hour with the sliding
glass door closed.  I knew that if I opened that door, not only would smoke
seep into the kitchen, but I would be able to hear Nicolas crying
convulsively on the couch. You see, at 1 p.m. each day he would sit in the
living room and cry uncontrollably, for some part of him knew that he could
never be what he used to be.

 But, at least I was getting what I wanted.

I woke up in a sheer panic and realized that Nick's tears had actually been
my own.  I rose from bed uneasily.  I was shaking and continued to be out
of sorts for the rest of the day.     It was the discombobulation one
experiences on those days when life delivers a crippling punch to the solar
plexus.

I called Nicolas later that afternoon.   The conversation was brief because
he was preparing for mid-terms.
           "So, how are you, Nick?"
           "Fine, Papa.  Just like I was three minutes ago when you asked
me the last time."
            "How's the studying?"
            "That's still ok..."
             "That's good..that's really good.   Great!"
            Pregnant pause.
            "Um, Papa, I'm sorry, but I should really go. I have a lot of
work to do."
            "Oh, yes, of course.    Mid terms and all."
            "Yeah.  Talk to you later, Papa."
            "Yes.   Nick..."
            "Yes, Papa?"
             "Good luck on exams."
             "Thanks."

I wept and smiled simultaneously after hanging up.   The envy was gone: as
though I had somehow condensed it into a ball and cast it into a blast
furnace.  It has never returned.

Nightmares disturb us so profoundly  because they force us to confront
aspects of ourselves we'd prefer to ignore.     Like medieval castle
spectres, they emerge from the remotest and darkest reaches of the
mindverse.   Their presence engenders such fear that we often remain
oblivious to the messages they're trying to convey.

That time I listened and as a consequence, the love I harbor for those
closest to me has never again been adulterated by envy.  Not for my
daughter, who is far more gifted with languages or for my wife, who is a
superior writer, or for Nick, who will not only win the next chess match,
but can hold his own in that rarefied realm of advanced mathematics that
shall forever remain inaccessible to me.

Even when our minds are twisting us into knots, they're striving to make
everything better.

Enjoy your beautiful mindverse today.

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