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, as the Executive Director of the Wrangell Mountain Center. When not in McCarthy, you'll typically find me in the Santa Cruz Mountains of California, writing and working with local activists. My primary writing project right now is a novel set in remote bush Alaska, of the magical realism genre wherein an earnest and independent young woman finds a mysterious radio belonging to her grandmother, a device that has paranormal bandwidth and a disturbing ability to mess with one's mental stability.

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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