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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