It went like this: I found myself walking down a cobblestone driveway, and I saw a little old lady tending to the garden. Suddenly a few things struck me. a) I shouldn't be disturbing him in his last days (he was old and dying of Cancer) and b) he must be so tired of visitors and of being "John Lennon" that I really don't have anything I could say to him that I felt would be of impact. The gardener lady was kind and tugged on my elbow with a smile, telling me "go on love, he's waiting for you..." So in I went and rounded the corner where I saw him...John, lying on his back and hooked up to some kind of respirator. Again, waves of guilt rolled through me that I would have the audacity to show up at his door. He tilted his head and smiled and knew what I was thinking. I could feel him in my thoughts, like a warm hug. "Heyyy man," he said. Suddenly I was at ease and moved closer to him. Most of his hair was gone and he had on his tiny round glasses. We started talking immediately how it would be so amazing for people to understand the nature of multiple realities. Like, here he was...for real...and dying of old age and Cancer, yet everyone knows he died in 1980. "Ya, it's a trip man, he said (or something close to that) and the great thing is that right now I'm also 5 years old and riding my first bicycle! Yee-haww!! We laughed and imagined all the other things we were doing at that moment, in space and time. I held his hand by his bedside and related to him all the exciting things I was doing with music and he specifically got a kick out of hearing about re-wired circuit-bent Furbies. "Oh man, you'll have to bring one by next time mate!!!" He was genuinely excited for me even though we both knew that there would not be a next time and that this was a one shot deal. I gave him a gentle hug and nodded my head in a "yes, yes" way, because there was nothing that needed to be said. I ran out the door and was exhilarated, running down the street and almost forgetting to breathe. I woke up with tears in my eyes and my wife smiled and asked me what was going on. I said, I hung out with John Lennon last night. I mean, I really, really did.
It was the biggest gift my heart has ever received from a dream. I recall the feeling and memory of that dream often, especially when I have days like today where I'm struggling financially and trying to be inspired to use my time wisely, rather than worrying about money and thinking about my place in the world. Then I think "remember when I hung out with John? Remember that feeling?" Then I think that not only is anything possible, but that I'm already doing it, maybe in another time or place. It's me being positive and creative in this moment that will spark other moments into existence. Of that I have no doubt. Thanks Johnny.
