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A Dream of Ashkenazi Angels
07.19.08 (12:07 pm)   [edit]

I dreamt this last night (July 17 2008):

I was invited to a family gathering of Jewish Gypsies. Wonderfully festive, food, drink, etc. First time I had any alcohol since SOMA. We watched a film that was most charming, not sad at all...yet I found myself pouring copious tears towards the end. So I ran to the bathroom, embarrassed, to cry it all out. I felt like I'd been duped, but in a nice way...delightfully silly. What was it about the film that made me cry? I can't recall. So I returned to the party, and there was my Mom crying too, my Dad sitting next to her, laughing. So I remarked: "Aha! It runs in the family, I got it from my Mom!" Please note that both my parents are now dead...my mother last year in December, my father some days ago (probably, I really don't know but that's another story).

Then we had service, like an informal church. They were all in some pews, listening to a beloved Rabbi. I was not among them, but stood apart standing behind them all. But I wanted to feel part of this gathering, so I found a vacant space toward the front, sat down and bowed my head, clasped my hands in prayer. The Rabbi was telling a favorite story. Something about how God created everything, and in order to create, had to be the very first to do this, and do that. So as he rattled off all these "firsts," he interjected, "He was even the first to go online and tell everyone all about Barbara Boxer." Everyone doubled over laughing including myself. I felt at home, maybe for the first time in my life.

The service ended, yet this intimate party wore on, and I was most content, sipping some golden elixer from a glass goblet *, perhaps it was brandy. For a moment I wondered why my friend Donald hasn't show up. (Don is a childhood friend whom I've never seen since going to college; he moved to Denmark is all I know).

--End of dream.

As I recall, all these Jewish people in my dream had lovely golden-red hair. This would inidicate Ashkenazis. Then I realized my new friend Jeff Jaenke's ** hair is of that same, lustrous color. And that he told me a couple weeks ago, he's German on both sides. One of his favorite things to do with me, is to have me remove his shoes and socks, and massage his feet while he lays back, smiling.

Jeff doesn't read the newspapers, or watch the news on TV. He didn't even know about Iran, Bush, Clinton, Obama, etc. When I told him these strawberries for our waffles are organic, he asked, "What does organic mean?" Another time, I pointed out an attractive man and said, "Isn't he gorgeous?" To which Jeff responded, "Everyone's gorgeous to me, so I have no ugly people to compare him with."

Jeff is like this handsome angel who visits me, and my heart is at peace when he's here. There is something about him (I conclude) that brought me this incredible dream. He did not show up last night as planned, but that's not unusual. He'll probably drop oper this eve.

But then again, if he is like most angels I've known, once I discover his secret (that he's an angel), he disappears from my life.

I have been feeling empty and pointless these days, having no friends to visit, or invite me over. (Been like this for over 20 years, now.) Wondering how I can go on like this, how I'm going to find any happiness again. One thing is clear since that dream: Amerika's Christian Community has no soul, it's been gutted out. But the Jewish people have heart...at least, ones like those in my dream. Should I seek out a synagogue? No, I've considered that before, only to discover that money runs the show: I'd need to pay $200 or more per year, to join. (This includes even the most left-wing, progressive ones.)

And I now understand why Donald never showed up in my dream: He was not welcome, he was too Protestant to share in our camaraderie.

They will find me and befriend me, these fiery-haired angels. Whoever they are. Interesting to know that a Gypsy family owns a building right across the street from my favorite coffeehouse on Church. But they all have black hair! New mysteries have arisen in my life, to rekindle my hopes. I have much good to look forward to. (And yes, I also saw Larkin again, yesterday, after my being gone two weeks. Remember when we first met? Larkin's hair was dyed a glorious, shiny orange!)

That is what this dream has done for me. And I feel in my heart, the dream was not of my own revery, but came from elsewhere. Who are these Gypsy Jews? Surely, they are a small, intimate branch that may be unknown among the larger Jewish community. They are here for me, and reached out to me in need. I'm certain SOME are angels, but also others are flesh and bone, and will soon include me in their lives. Where does Jeff fit in?

Who is he anyway, to inspire my dream of these glorious red heads? And now I suddenly awaken at 7:30am, life full of meaning and love, ready to look forward to another remarkable day, instead of rolling over depressed, and not getting up for another few hours.

Thank you, Jeff, so much.

* Note: I just looked up the word "goblet" to discover this definition: "A bowl-shaped drinking vessel; especially the Eucharistic cup." Then I looked up "Eucharist" to discover: "A Christian sacrament commemorating the Last Supper by consecrating bread and wine".

** I just looked up surname "Jaenke". The closest spelling is "Jänke". Here's what I discovered, it's a derivative of "John":

plumdigital.com/0_genealogy/FamNames.html

John is one of the most popular of the medieval names, and took several forms even in medieval times. John derived from Hebrew Yochanan... Jahncke (Jähncke) is a diminutive form of the German (of Slavic origin) cognate of John, including...Jähncke, Jäncke, Jänke...(German of Slav origin).

members.aol.com/thomagene/GivenNames.html

John derived from Hebrew Yochanan (God has favoured me with a son).

Then I looked up "Yochanan" to get this:

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_%28name%29

The name "John" originates from Yôh.a-nna-n, which means "Yahweh or God is gracious". Yahweh is the name of God by the Jewish people. Yôh.a-nna-n was the name of several important Jewish rabbis in the Second Temple Period in Israel, such as Yochanan ben Zakai and Yochanan ben Nuri.... The name had gained popularity among Jews in Judea and Galilee by the time the area became a province of the Roman Empire in 6 A.D. It was the given name of Yochanan ben Zechariah, a Jewish prophet known in English as John the Baptist. It was also the given name of Yochanan ben Zibhdi, a fisherman from Galilee who became one of the favorite students (called disciples) of Jesus Christ and so is known in English as John the Apostle. Because Yochanan also wrote one of the four accounts of the life of Jesus Christ called gospels, the Gospel of St. John, he is also known as John the Evangelist.

BTW, "Jeffrey" is Old German, meaning "God's peace". And years ago, the first short story of worth I ever wrote was entitled "Dear Geoffrey"...which tale has long been lost. It was a potpourri of mystery, gay love, and the sasquatch.

=============

A friend comments:

{{ That's a lovely dream. My dreams are more along the lines of finding myself out in public in a bathrobe.... }}

Terrycloth or silk? :b

{{ Seriously, though, it's your subconscious trying to soothe you by creating a sweet little custom-tailored ideal vacation for you... }}

That IS one among other realistic interpretations. I don't necessarily believe in the subconscious. I DO believe in archetypes however, and in psychic phenomena. Carl Jung's method of dream analysis would interpret all characters in my dream as various aspects of oneself.

If I interpreted this as just a way my inner self soothed me, then I would not be so assuaged. But if I believe this is genuine spiritual contact, then I am more hopeful. Jung said archetypes are REAL, not imaginary.

I've had cycles in the past, of high synchronicity, and keep those in mind to bolster my hopes. It seems I'm entering a new cycle; I sure hope so, it would be the best medicine for me right now. Example:

Jeff prefers a backpack over a duffel bag. But duffels only cost me $2 at a local thrift store, whereas backpacks are far more expensive. So whenever his bag gets stolen, I replace it with a duffel. His bag has been stolen twice so far, over five months. This last time was a week ago, and I reminded him I couldn't afford a backpack, but I'd keep an eye out for one that might be discarded on the streets, or in a free box.

Lo and behold, later that day I come across this lovely backpack on the sidewalk, perfectly clean and not torn in any way. That's what I'd call synchronicity! (It is rather rare to come across a quality backpack on the sidewalks, let alone a duffel bag. He's really happy with it. Jeff's a ready smiler.)

Which word (synchronicity) I think is the farthest an atheist would go, w/o considering psychic phenomena and/or a spiritual world. Or those who don't want to come off as too non-cerebral with their intellectual peers.

I don't believe ALL dreams are strictly internalized self reflection. I think there are at least three distinctly different types of dreams: (1) self reflective, (2) nonsensical, energy-release though meaningless, and (3) angelic communique. You can identify the third type, if it astounds and brightens or troubles your spirit, and throws something in that is NOT at all typical of your personality type; as if to emphasize this is NOT a number 1 (or 2) dream.

A Jungian analysis indicates my psyche is peopled with healthy, loving archetypes (with a sense of humor, thank Goddess) who will see me through any difficult times, and bring me the victories and success I've hungered for so long to achieve.

{{ ..instructive, too, because it's telling you that what you need is not impossible or implausible, that it's really quite simple.... }}

Camaraderie with a group of golden-haired Jews? Sounds highly implausible on the mundane level. But as for just this "simple" issue of finding steady friends...that has been impossible for me now, for many years. The good folks I do meet scamper off to another town within a year or less, and do not keep in touch. Or they die, or for some reason (usually hateful gossip) turn on me. In San Francisco, the average time a newcomer remains here, is no more than two years.

My teeth being rotten and falling out does NOT help any, either. Lack of moolah bans me from joining a social group or club. Coffeehouses and the streets were my accustomed way of meeting folks and making friends. That has all changed, sadly.

Actually, I've had some homeless friends on and off, but they too disappear I know not where. The street life does not afford them the stability to maintain friendships over the long run.

The most stable associations I've known these past 10 years or so, is via the Internet...whom I call "e-friends". While that's great, and does help some, it's certainly a far cry from real friendship. I'm glad Jeff is in my life, but his being houseless does not help any. Or my own shaky financial situation.

But those angels in my dream have shown me not to worry, they are aware of my situation, and will bring bless-ed relief shortly. For this reason, I believe that loneliness is usually not one's own fault (as in "I must be doing something wrong"), but one of society's alienation from various stressors, or even a particular spiritual path that some are destined to experience, that they may gain necessary wisdom...just as some experience cancer, addiction, homicide, poverty, etc.

What got me was reference to Barbara Boxer! Which I interpret as a message to keep an eye on her doings, she's somehow very important to the dream, and my spiritual life. I guess she's Jewish? Maybe she's part of some angelic inner circle, which communicated to me through that dream (and others I've had over many years).

Jeff strikes me as growing up in a Protestant family, both sides. But he may indeed have some Ashkenazi blood in him. I need to ask him what he knows of his heritage. He's German, with that typical reddish-gold hair indicative of the Ashkenazi.

Ah, about Boxer (I just looked her up):

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Boxer

"Boxer was first elected to the U.S. Senate in 1992, becoming one of the first two female Jewish senators, along with Dianne Feinstein."

Oh yes, about Dianne: She did not support my buddy Randolph's 40-day fast while Mayor of SF in 1984, instead she declared his fast as an act of self violence. So I have a karmic link to her, too...a personal bone to pick, shall we say?

When I have an extraordinary dream such as this, I research the characters, symbols and events in it, to glean any messages. So now, let's see what I come up with when searching for "Gypsy Jews":

Well, most of the links refer to the obvious...Jews and Gypsies certainly shared the same fate during the Nazi Holocaust. As did homosexuals. Did you know some Jews fled to German forests and hid out until the war was over? They fared okay, by what I've read.

But unlike gays, both communities are very tightly knit, infiltrating any culture foreign to them instead of fully assimilating. Their communities across the globe are all this way. I envy that!

Curious that "nazi" is part of "Ashkenazi"! I never realized that till this moment. I wonder if there's an etymological connection?

Perhaps other dreams or events will add more pieces to the puzzle.


And Jeff will most likely return tonight.


Yippee!

2 Comments
 
Yow, I'm 58!
07.01.08 (10:16 pm)   [edit]

Dear Larkin,

Don't know when your birthday occurs, but mine's today (July 1). So I'm using my b'day as the perfect excuse to celebrate yours. Besides, it has been a personal tradition of mine, to celebrate the day of my birth by doing something nice for another. In fact, the opportunity sort of threw itself at my feet:

This afternoon, while strolling down Noe Street after stepping off the N Judah,

I discovered someone's medical papers scattered on the sidewalk. They looked important, apparently a pending lawsuit by a male nurse who was injured on the job at Davies Medical Center. No phone number, but fortunately his full name and address were on page one.

So I enclosed my "Jehovah's Queer Witness" calling card along with his papers, sealed the envelope, stuck a stamp to it, and dropped it in a nearby mailbox. No reward or contact expected, but who knows? I sense something fortuitous in my good deed for the day.

This is not a cheap birthday card, so I'm leaving it unmarked, that you might enjoy presenting it to another. (See you manana, at the tacqueria.)


Your friend,

Zeke

2 Comments
 

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