Pray that you might interpret (I've got nothing):
Last night I dreamed that the university where I teach asked me to teach a karate class. I've often said that I could teach anything at the 100-200 level because I can read faster than the students, but this was going to be a stretch. What's worse is that my wife and all her Mom's groups signed up for the class.
The class was held in a Buddhist/Toaist water garden. There were a number of men in meditative poses sitting around contemplating the water. I remember some bronze frog statues and the sounds of live frogs coupled with the water. There was lots of green and flowing water.
One of my wife's friends, a red-haired woman (who I don't think really exists) confronted me and asked what are we really trying to get out of this class. One of my wife's other friends yelled out "black-belts" and everyone shouted in agreement. I was concerned because my basic plan was to look at some karate books, learn some moves and stances and then teach them to the students. I had no idea how to get them certified as black-belts.
After the students left, I thought I could learn something by looking at the men (monks?) who were meditating in the garden. One guy was listening to an audio-tape that, somehow, I knew was like a catechism for Karate. So, I listened in and the guy was on question 81. The problem was the tape only asked questions, it did not give answers.
I was about to ask the old man for the answers when I was knocked down by a large, black German shepherd. He had that wonderful warm-doggy smell and the intense feeling of hair as he completely covered my body. My vision was entirely filled with his face and deep black eyes.
The dog was pulled off of me by his owner, a brown shaggy haired skinny man in his twenties with a prominent adam's apple, tan and brown plaid short-sleeved shirt worn open over a white undershirt, and tight, slightly faded jeans that might have flared a bit at the shoe.
For some reason I began to tell the man all about my difficulties involving teaching karate, which I knew nothing about.
When I said the word, "karate" the black dog walked over to where a board was laying on top of four cement blocks standing vertical in two columns with two blocks each. The dog stood on his hind legs and chopped the board with his forepaws.
The brown-haired man explained to me that he'd been studying karate for years and the dog had leaned a lot of it too. I asked the man to teach me karate.
The man said that there weren't any good books for it at the university library because the library was too academic.
Instead he suggested that we travel to the community college here in town. I didn't know there was a community college here in town (because there's not), but we got into my car, some kind of compact, and he guided me to it. During the time between the garden and the community college the man turned into one of my very best friends in the world who lives in Iowa, is blonde, not brown haired, and is in his 40's, not 20's. Anyway, this didn't bother me.
We got to the community college which was an ultra-modern construct four stories tall and wider than a football field of almost pure glass. Unfortunately, one of the top floors was on fire. My friend explained that this is where the library was. We asked one of the students walking by what was going on and if the books were all destroyed. He was annoyed that we were bothering him, but answered that many of the books had been destroyed but that others were being moved to the Art Consortium until the library could be rebuilt.
I had never been to the Art Consortium and had always believed it was just a group of people, not a physical place, Also, sometimes in the dream it wasn't an Art Consortium, but was a Nature Consortium. Still, I drove there and went inside to look for where the college had stored the books. The building was massive, like a mall, but filled with little classrooms and lecture rooms and symposium rooms, all with tables and chairs but no people.
The halls, however, had lots of people. They were mostly elderly ladies and they were all worried about Donald Trump not funding the arts. They kept saying "people don't understand we need money to keep this thing going." I went from room to room looking for where they had put the library books.
I went into one room and they had danishes similar to the ones put out at events at universities. I ate a cherry one because there was only cherry and cream-cheese and I don't like cream cheese.
As I was eating it one of the old ladies at the door greeted me. She was smiling and very friendly, but when she walked away from me she said to one of the other ladies, "See, this is what I am talking about. No one understands. He ate one of the danishes, now it will have to be replaced."
I felt very bad about eating the danish even though I was fairly certain they had been put out for people to eat. I began to wonder if this was all real, which made me aware of my body and my bed and I woke up very, very, thirsty.
He who has ears, let him hear.