The Battle

The other night I dreamed that I was in a battle with this kid. We were on a street corner in an urban setting, grey skies, buildings and all. I do not recall my appearance, but I do remember that my opponent was wearing a baseball cap that somehow completely covered his face. I set the whole thing off and came across rather nicely. This kid, however, was some kind of mutant rhyme beast because he tore into me verbally in a way that I had never experienced. There was a rather large crowd watching us, jeering me and cheering him on as he continued to bombard me with rhyming insults. My cell phone's alarm woke me up abruptly, much to my relief and chagrin. For a good 15 minutes I felt completely demoralized. "Damn, I can't even win a battle in my dreams?" I thought, wondering if I was indeed too old to be rapping. I was sitting on the end of my bed, sulking, when it hit me: That other kid was me! I was battling myself! There was the "me" that I was conscious of, then there was the "other me" represented by "the kid".

My spirits lifted immediately."The kid" was the part of me that I did not recognize fully, that's why I could not see his face . On a deeper level, he represented the space from which greatness comes from. The "I" that I identified with represented the image that I had of myself at the time. My mission from that point on was(and still is today) to never get in the way of my own creativity.

"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream".