dreams: November 29, 1999

social support at Swat

Woody Allen is directing a movie, and I'm sitting on the sidelines watching. The whole production is a tight group of people who know each other well.

Later I'm on my way to a fancy evening group date with some Swattie girlfriends. We're all dressed up. Rebecca Weinberger is wearing a shiny cream-colored strapless dress. We're getting on a shuttle. She says she's cold, and she asks if she could borrow a sweater. We have about three minutes before the shuttle leaves, but we're closest to my dorm room. I think about it and say yes, I have a red cardigan sweater. I get out and start to run up, worried that I'll miss the shuttle. Then later I see Rebecca way off in the distance, walking with some of the others towards where I am. She found herself a black sweater.

Then I'm in the Worth Health Center. I'm talking to Barbara, the nice compassionate nurse who works here. She gives me the results of some test, and I'm suddenly extremely happy to be alive, full of total gratitude to God. I feel like no one around me can quite relate to my appreciation of the Divine. At this moment, I am full of a strong faith, absolutely trusting of the universe.

I walk outside and see some male Swatties hanging out. One is delivering newspapers (the Philadelphia Weekly), throwing a copy at the health center. The guys seem like a group of delinquents, yelling things to each other. I'm a little curious, but mainly I just have no desire to be around here anymore. I walk away.

Then I'm writing poetry, putting it into an art project with Sarah Kowalski. We are sitting outside on the pathway/road next to the health center, and we're each making individual art pieces that have our poems on them. I'm suddenly flooded with a strong appreciation for Sarah, struck with how gentle, intelligent, strong, gifted, genuine and caring she is. I love her.

Then we are inside with other friends. We are all creating art and poetry together. I'm making a special piece for Granny. Then I am cutting Alison Young's blonde hair. It is very very thin, like she's almost bald. I can easily see her scalp. She complains about how thin it has gotten.

It's enjoyable to be surrounded by friends here. I'm standing talking to Sarah Yahm. She and I are totally having fun, laughing about something.

- FIN -

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