About twenty years ago, I had a remarkable dream that has stayed with me.
The dream went like this:
I’m amongst a large, excited crowd of people who are gathered around a man who is speaking to them. He appears to be a teacher of some kind. At one point someone asks a question, and they are mocked by the crowd. The teacher chastises the jeering. Then he says, quietly: ‘Do not trust those who hide their palms.’
I’m aware that it’s not modern times.
Later, I’m in a small, plain room with four or five women and we’re folding a large piece of white cloth. We carry this simple deed out in complete silence.
Over the years, I’ve told a few people about the dream. Their responses have ranged from ‘how much had you had to drink?’ to ‘it’s a miraculous sign.’
Whatever the truth, I haven’t had a dream remotely like it since, and when I think about its content, it feels more significant every day.
It also scares the shit out of me.