It started somewhere at a restaurant. I made a rendezvous with a girl, unknown by my memory, but apparently my girlfriend given the context of the situation.
We got in our car; it was an SUV, Range Rover perhaps. She was driving. It was a long trip and I remember making a remark about just how long it was taking to get to where we were headed. I joked with her and she laughed. I felt grateful and relieved in a way, to find myself with a woman who I seemingly loved, being able to engage in nonchalant conversation like we did. It was reminiscent of times I’ve had in the past, but not so much lately.
We arrived at our destination, which turned out to be a house across a bay from the Miami skyline. It was a one story home, not unlike the homes you see on A1A just north of Boynton Inlet beach in Palm Beach county.
As we approached the house, the scenario changed into a Bengali dinner party. My significant other seemed to vanish from the context of the situation as we entered the party.
Before we went inside, I made a strange observation. I noticed that there were three full-size cars, convertibles, buried into the ground, with their tops down so that one could hop in and sit inside the car, albeit the vehicle was unmovable. Only one of them was occupied at the time, by people who seemed to be close relatives to the residents of the house (I didn’t recognize them).
We stepped inside and were greeted magnanimously by a whole gang of people. It was very joyous and bright inside, full of chatter and laughter. I shook hands and gave greetings all around. I proceeded to a reading room where there were several people that were closer to my age congregating and chatting. Among the crowd was my brother and a few close friends. I had intentions of making my way towards them after finishing my round of greetings with the hosts.
I was conversing with the oldest son of the hosts, when I realized that everyone else in the room had left, leaving just us two by ourselves.
“Let the young ones play,” I thought, “Us mature folks can spend our time being … mature.” As soon as I thought this, I turned to see my companion excuse himself briefly to take a phone call. It was then that I resolved to find out what happened to my younger companions.
I stepped out of the room and outside of the house to see billows of smoke. The one half-buried car that originally held passengers now had an additional one or two passengers, plus a full size hookah with one of the occupants puffing on its hose and blowing smoke in the air. “They’re having a good time,” I thought.
I proceeded to walk to the next buried car to find another group lounging and smoking hookah, but their faces were unrecognizable to me.
Then I walked over to the last car on the side of the house and there I saw the instantly recognizable back of my cousin’s head, sitting calmly in the center front seat, with another one of my close friends beside him. Behind them in the backseat were my brother and another friend of ours, fumbling around with a blunt.
“Look at my homies,” I thought to myself, laughing. It was a real funny situation to walk up on my friends who were up to their same tricks.
I walked around the car and made eye contact with everyone with a big smile on my face, unsure of how to break the laughter. My cousin and the rest saw me and instead of spouting a wisecrack like expected, they all nervously rose in their seats as to not offend for not inviting me to join them. As soon as I sensed this, I assuaged them by repeating what had come to mind earlier: “Look at my homies!” They all broke out in laughter and the dream ended with us laughing together.
The restaurant, the girl and the long drive in our SUV could have just been my mind’s subconscious idea of what my adult life might be like. The girl may have been my wife. The rest of the dream could be interpreted then as a view on the trajectory of my life.
The half-buried convertible cars could have represented material wealth. With all the glamour and perks of material wealth comes the weight of it as well. The cars were very nice, luxurious and comfortable. But they were immobile; stuck in the ground. The guests who were seated in them could not move much, however comfortably they may have sat.
Many of the guests, including my friends, found themselves seated in these cars enjoying hookah. This may be an indication of the paths our lives are taking. For it seems the majority of my friends are bound to enjoy material wealth, through the success they may find in their respective jobs and businesses.
I found myself in the dream above ground, walking freely, but at the same time a little bit lost; searching. I was in between conversing with an acquaintance and searching for my friends. But I found them, up to their same habits, and they allowed me to join in their company.
Material wealth has been something I have hoped to give less priority to as I get older. I’d like to think that I have always kept an aim for the spiritual, throughout life. Perhaps this dream is an example of what that life may be like; a little bit lost but free.