Dream Weaver

Mr. Tedesco,

I have had this recurring dream for the last 25 years. I have it about twice a year.  

I’m hiking with a friend. I never see the person’s face and I never identify the person but I know it’s a friend. We come to a swimming hole and we jump in. Under the water we see a tunnel and you have to hold your breath to swim through it. I am nervous while we swim through the tunnel. Finally there is an opening that only fits one person at a time. We get through and we are gasping for air. We then climb up the wall made of limestone or some other kind of similar rocks, and right before reaching the top I wake up.  

Same dream every time.  

Dear Same dream every time,

I’m thirty eight years old. I wonder if you’re around the same age. If you are, this means that twenty five years ago you were thirteen. This makes a lot of sense, because what most people who interpret dreams would tell you directly relates to adolescence.

An interpretation that some people would gladly take money in exchange for goes like this:

You are the faceless friend. This aspect of the dream is a symbol of an unintegrated facet of your personality. So the whole swimming, tunnel, narrow passage thing; this is you having to abandon some aspect of yourself in the transition to your adult self.

This is a really lazy interpretation. This is a really lazy world. We need boxes to put our shit in. So let’s run with this one for a minute.

How is the you from twenty five years ago different from you right now?  What did you give up to be who you are? Do you think you’re a better person now?

That last question is the only one that really matters. If you’re a better person now, then fuck this other part of you. Make a life-sized likeness of the thirteen year old you, but with no face. Throw it in a hole in the ground. Cover it in hot coals. Plant a tree in the hole two days later. Look at the tree when you think of it. Then think about this quote, from “An Exercise in Love” by Diane Di Prima:

“My friend walks soft as a weaving on the wind

He backlights my dreams

He has built altars beside my bed

I awake in the smell of his hair & cannot remember

his name, or my own.”

There’s one more important question to ask yourself. Do you use any of the following words on a daily basis:

















If you do, follow the same directions, but make sure that tree you plant is a fruit tree. Eat from it every day.





Send me your dream. Send it to DMCBLOB@gmail.com.

Say something about dreams in the subject line.


About Adam Tedesco

Adam Tedesco has worked as a shipbuilder, a meditation instructor, a telephone technician, and as a cultural critic for the now disbanded Maoist Internationalist Movement. His recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Pith, Funhouse, Cosmonauts Avenue, Hobart and elsewhere. He lives under a shed in Albany, New York. Portrait By Mary Charlene https://www.etsy.com/people/missmarycharlene View all posts by Adam Tedesco

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