It is wonderfully quiet Shabat. Family went on excursion to the Golan Heights. I closed my eyes, fell in trance and invoked a dream-vision.
I was naked on the sand near a beach cabin. Between the sea and the cabin sat a group of young people, entertaining itself watching fighting wild pigs with big curled tusks. I sat with the two lovely girls I had met in Medellin, and I had a visitor, the old Ecuatorian gentleman, the manager of the Pichincha project. We talked about the work he was giving me. I suggested a project, and he said with a voice full of kindness, I want you to be happy, you have the project. The girls were friendly, I only had to take them, they were mine. I went down to the dark sea, it was black water, oil.
Interpretation: In my dream, unfulfilled, forgotten desires came back to me. In the Pichincha project, I had wanted to stay and continue developing the pig breeding project. In Colombia, I had been toured to a typical village in the high valleys, escorted by two fresh student girls of the team. I had lusted after them, painfully. In my vision, everything I had wanted badly and didnt have, was there for me to take. Even the dark ocean was oil. Now I am tired but peaceful.
Next morning follow up: Not very valuable insights. Now that I am self-aware that I still dream of the Pichincha project and lust after the Medellin hottie, that I have unfinished business with them, what can I do with that knowledge? Should I focus for the rest of my life on agroindustrial development of Pichincha, Ecuador? Should I track down that hottie all over the world? That is absurd. I dont pretend to have visions of making revolutions, of discovering new continents, of inventing the perpetuum mobile. But dreaming about a hottie Colombian girl? That is too terrestrial even for me, wingless, rastrero, unbehooving of what I think I am.
Or is it that I am just another stinking horny old goat?