Stories & Life
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I had a dream — snip, snip, part 2

Having covered the sordid details yesterday, I thought it might be entertaining to recount just how it was that I managed to come to the decision to go under the knife and entrust my testicles to a stranger.

For years I knew that a vasectomy was what I wanted to do, but I hesitated. It’s one thing to know in your head, it’s another to actually do it, to make a decision, knowing that there’s no going back. It’s all so very final, this vasectomy thing. It can be reversed, but reversing it is expensive and complicated, or so I read. And so, I vascilated, putting it off, until one night when the answer came to me, in a dream.

It was at my most recent meditation retreat that the answer came to me. This was a ten day retreat, and when on an extended meditation retreat, most meditators have very lucid, it’s really wacky stuff, and on this most recent retreat, I had some of the most vivid dreams of my life.

I don’t often remember my dreams, so having lucid dreams is very trippy. During this last retreat, I was waking up two or three times a night, from the stark virtual reality of dreamland. Each time it took me a few moments to realize which reality was real and which reality was just a passing dream — such was the intensity of the dream states.

I had been very seriously pondering a vasectomy, going into the retreat. This time I’m doing it, I told myself, determined. Even so, I had failed to make the simple call to set up an appointment.

Then one night, during my meditation retreat, a lover came to me, in a dream. The identity of this lover was/is unknown — I’m not just saying that to protect someone’s identity, it was an anonymous person — but though the lover remained unknown, there was no uncertainty as regards the news: she was pregnant, we were pregnant.

All other details of the dream are lost to me, they vanished almost immediately after I woke up. And after waking it took me a very long time to realize that the dream was just a dream, and that I was, in truth, just a dude on a meditation retreat having lucid dreams that had a freaky feel of being very real.

Could it be? I asked myself, still feeling myself in limbo, between two worlds. Was it all only a dream?

When the full truth of my reality did finally sink in, I felt as if salvation itself were washing over me. So vivid was the dream that I felt like I had a new lease on life. I had a sudden urg to start jumping up and down on my bed, like Ebenezer Scrooge when he wakes up on Christmas morning after surviving a run-in with the three meddling spirits.

I resisted the urge to celebrate with a happy dance. Instead I sat on the edge of the bed and pondered the ramifications of this revelatory dream. It didn’t take me long to realize that I had my answer about the vasectomy, and after I realized this, it wasn’t long before I lay back down, settling into a peaceful sleep, awaiting the four A.M. bell that roused us for another day of meditation.

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Writer. In the summers, I live and work in the incredible state of Alaska, in the bush community of McCarthy; I pass the winters in the Santa Cruz Mountains of California. I'm working on a memoir-based nonfiction book on the American Dream. I blog, quite frequently, and I also have a novel in process, set in Alaska.

1 Comment

  1. Pingback: What’s in a meme? Or, How to be as big a deal as Socrates | Jonathan Erdman, indie writer

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