Presby-Musings

I had this dream a few weeks ago, and I thought about writing it down. And then that evil thing that author Stephen Pressfield calls the " Resistance " thwarted me, and I put it off. But no longer.  This dream deserves to preserved in writing.  You'll see why in a moment. I should also add that it probably deserves to be analyzed by someone who does that sort of thing. At any rate, here is the dream in all of it's surreality.   I am in a cab in a city, which I think is Chicago ---at least that's what it feels like.  It's dark and the lights of the city are flashing by as we speed through the streets.  It looks like it has been raining, because the streets are sort of glistening like they do after it rains and the clouds move away.   I look over at the seat next to me in the cab and I realize that I am sitting next to the Dalai Lama .  This seems odd to me even in the dream, but I can't think of anything to say.  The Dalai Lama smile...