The Perennial Philosopher Goes Golfing

Some time ago, never mind how long exactly, I had a dream that I was hanging out with four or five friends at a golf course, waiting for an expert who was going to give us some tips. We were horsing around at the first tee which was next to an apartment building with outside stairs going down to a laundry room about seven flights below. For some reason, I explained the perennial philosophy to the men, that life is nothing but a dream of consciousness and that nothing exists outside of consciousness. They laughed at the idea, since it was obvious to them that they existed, and started riffing on it. One said, “I’m not here? Can I be in Jim then since he’s not using his body?” Another guy was tugging at the back of Jim’s pants to show me that he was wearing Depends. Jim was mildly irritated and said, “What are you doing?” The other guy said, “Look. Jim’s wearing Depends but there’s nothing in them.”

The men wandered off and I was alone with my thoughts when the golf expert rolled in. He was a strong, silent type. Without addressing me he teed up a golf ball and took a mighty swing. The ball went about two feet. He turned to look at me, but I was discreetly examining one of my golf clubs. On his second try the ball flew straight and true down the fairway but hit something we could not see and ricocheted all over the place, finally zinging back around our heads and flying down the apartment stairs.

I ran over and saw the ball on the stairs a couple of flights down. It was green and easy to see, but the dream did not explain how that would work on grass. I now find that curious, especially as someone who loses too many golf balls to afford to play. I saw a woman going down the stairs with a load of laundry and I started to warn her about the ball, but before I could say anything she tossed it up to me. I missed it and it fell to the bottom of the stairs. I was surprised when it bounced all the way back up and I was able to grab it.

I went back to the first tee where the expert was lining up another shot. In a clownish mood, I somehow managed to invert my right foot sufficiently across my left knee to place the ball on my sole while standing on one foot, like a human golf tee. I grabbed a club and pretended to line up a shot off my foot. When the expert turned around to see what the heck I was doing I laughed and said, “Just kidding!” He was not amused. My friends returned and we all wandered off to new adventures which I cannot now recall.

Later I dreamt I had a daughter who wrote a note to me, saying, “I sure do dream some weird things. I dreamt that I had a dad who wrote me about explaining that life is a dream while he was dreaming.”

You have to admit it’s a little weird to explain that life is but a dream to people in a dream. By the way, I do not play golf.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, row on.