I met with a dream walker last night. He was going to teach me about the Dreamtime, about creation and the Song Lines. It ended up being a discussion about love and loss and desire.
Strange News: So you can actually walk through, not just your own, but other’s dreams?
Joseph: Yes. I dream walk. When I’m dreaming, I sing a song…a song of an animal, a song of the land, a song of a human. Song Lines. Everyone has their own tune.
SN: These Song Lines. How do you learn them?
J: Most of them have been passed down through families. You learn the songs of the desert of the kangaroo, of the rivers. You might not understand them if they are from another tribe, but you can tell…the lines take the shape and mimic the subject.
He smiles and leans back into his chair. He takes a glass from the table next to him and pours in a little whiskey.
J: People are different. Each person has a different song. Can you imagine that? Millions and millions of songs. You have to get the tune, each note, just right. Lots of trial and error.
SN: Do you visit many people in the dream time?
J: Just one, really.
He looks out the window, a little smile tugs at his mouth.
J: There’s always someone, isn’t there? (He begins to roll a cigarette as he speaks) There’s always someone who captivates us.
SN: You knew her song?
J: No…not really. It just happened upon me. I sent something out into dreamtime and the dreamtime sang her song back to me.
J: I wouldn’t say that. No. Not fate. it was more like…prophetic reaction.
SN: Prophetic reaction?
J: It’s like…(he takes a drag on his cigarette and slowly lets the smoke out) It’s like doing something, throwing something out into the world, and the reaction it elicits is what was meant to be all along. You just kind of speed things up. You know?
I nod, trying to follow. The whiskey and smoke going to my head.
J: The universe brought me her song so sometimes I dreamwalk to her.
SN: And then what?
J: I mostly sing to her. Look out for her. A dreamtime guardian angel.
SN: Do you know her?
J: Well…no. I guess not. Not really. She has visited my dreams sometimes. But I’m not sure if it’s because she comes to me willingly or because sometimes I call out to her.
He looks embarrassed. His cheeks flush a little and he begins to roll another cigarette nervously.
J: But, like I was saying…sometimes someone just captivates you. I sing her song and I see her, then I continue on. That’s all. The universe brought her song, so we’ll see what her song brings me.
He has regained composure. Whiskey in one hand, cigarette in the other.
He uses the smoke to draw quick pictures of snakes and lizards, rivers and mountains, singing deep and soft.
He opens his mouth, eyes locked onto mine.
No words come out. No sound. But somehow, I understood. Somehow that empty space, that void of communication, was enough.
I left him smiling on his way to the dreaming.