I dreamt last night that I was a father. My 22-year-old son (I knew I had at least one child) wanted something that I could not give him. The argument screamed over the protests of my wife, Clare. She stood nearby, her face indignant and injured. My son continued to assert that my backward principles stood in the way of my understanding him. I was old in the dream.<\/p>\n
But in my mind within the scenario (not the third-person one that passively watched), I would not lose this fight. I decided that my son was misguided and this was my opportunity to teach him something. Ironic, actually, how stubbornly I was going to defend my side, not even considering what my grown son was saying; exactly what he was saying. And I knew that my son would respect what I would say in the same subconsciously conscious of our relationship way that I would disregard his opinion on the subject.<\/p>\n
And later at home, even knowing that he disagreed, he would wrestle himself over whether he should trust in his father’s experience and wisdom or believe what seemed more right in his own mind.<\/p>\n
And I was proud. My son respected me, he loved me, and he valued me as his father. I was proud that he listened, and decided ultimately that he disagreed. I was proud of him and I was proud of me.<\/p>\n
This dream was way better than the one where I kept dying over and over again in World of Warcraft.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I dreamt last night that I was a father. My 22-year-old son (I knew I had at least one child) wanted something that I could not give him. The argument screamed over the protests of my wife, Clare. She stood nearby, her face indignant and injured. My son continued to assert that my backward principles […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":38,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false}}},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p73iP8-3H","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":3025,"url":"http:\/\/www.steelbuddha.net\/?p=3025","url_meta":{"origin":229,"position":0},"title":"Dream journal","date":"4\/18\/2017","format":false,"excerpt":"I have to relieve myself, so I knock on the door of my dad's house. He has finished a new remodel, with lofty ceilings and dark wood. The rustic quality of it all speaks to him and of him, but the restroom is occupied. I know there is another in\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Dream Journal"","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":238,"url":"http:\/\/www.steelbuddha.net\/?p=238","url_meta":{"origin":229,"position":1},"title":"Dream Diary","date":"2\/1\/2005","format":false,"excerpt":"I was staying in a luxury and remote cabin on a small lake with an incredible view. Apparently, I was staying with my aunt Mary, who is young enough to be my older sister. She had a new baby with her, and as always, was looking like she had never\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Self-service"","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":2584,"url":"http:\/\/www.steelbuddha.net\/?p=2584","url_meta":{"origin":229,"position":2},"title":"Endings","date":"1\/20\/2015","format":false,"excerpt":"My grandfather died on January 20. 1. I heard from my mother that he was sick, refusing meds, home in bed. He was surrounded by people, professing to hate that. An old dog that wanted to die alone under the porch. I wanted to respect that, so I declined offers\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Ennui"","img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":617,"url":"http:\/\/www.steelbuddha.net\/?p=617","url_meta":{"origin":229,"position":3},"title":"Dream Journal: Post-apocalypse film noir mystery","date":"12\/4\/2006","format":false,"excerpt":"She didn't look like she was having much fun with the greasy, tallow-looking guy with the meandering hands, but she was trying her best to keep up the act. 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