Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Ghost & The Power Of Hopelessness

I dreamt.

There was a contest of some sort. I was vaguely aware of it.

The first one "chosen" by the rabbis approached me and was rejected. The second one "chosen" by the rabbis approached me and was rejected. The rabbis were stymied.

In the meantime, while all this was going on, a ghost was shackled between two posts like the heretic in Ben Avuyah's story, Justice Divine. The ghost was white, S-shaped with its ghosttail trailing about, and looked just like Casper, the friendly ghost.

Ghost was shackled because the rabbis refused to choose him. It was to keep Ghost from approaching me, as he wasn't "chosen" by the rabbis. But Ghost struggled mightily against the chains which bound him between the posts. Neither the posts nor the restraints budged at all in response to his mighty struggles. It seemed a hopeless endeavor. Totally and completely hopeless.

Nevertheless, even cognizant of the hopelessness of the struggle, Ghost continued to struggle with all his heart, with all his might, with all his veryness - despite that all of it didn't perturb his bounds at all.

The rabbis were preparing to choose another, yet again. Ghost heaved a cry that ripped through all creation and struggled, yet again, with all, despite the utter hopelessness of doing so.

Suddenly, the shackles snapped and fell from his wrists. Ghost's cry was cut off mid-stream, he was so startled by this new thing. Could this really be real?

He was free.

I woke up.

Can this be real? My bashert is a "heretic"?

Well rabbis, I don't care.

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