02:51 - 07.05.07
Nightmares
My last dreams were really disturbing. I think they might have their roots in the article I read about someone on another continent deliberately poisoning a key pharmaceutical ingredient simply to make a bit more money. That one person, with collaboration from a whole raft of middle men and their own government, cost thousands of people their lives and disabled as many more. Cough medicine yet. Check your cupboards dear diary - I did.
The dream had me in Asia helping in some sort of humanitarian crisis - a natural disaster that left a whole country devastated during the hottest part of the year. I was working with a local woman. Our responsibility was to try and protect the children. That seemed to include making certain basic needs were met, family reunification and disease/injury control. The part that sickened me was that there were so many adult predators trying to take advantage of the situation - exploiting the most vulnerable in many ways. The female I was working with must have been a lawyer or some similar profession. She was very effective in her attempts to stop the abusers in their tracks. Meant she herself became a target of a large international, organized group who had their roots in North America, who were selling as many children as they could into several forms of slavery. Prostitution, arms and drug running, even the sale of organs from those little, living bodies.
My work partner and I were in an office most of the time, but we had to go out in her vehicle to attend a meeting. Her cell phone rang several times on the journey. I couldn't speak the local language, so instead my responsibility was to write down all the details she dictated as we continued to hurry toward our destination. All I had was an envelope on which to write, but it was the legal size and I wrote small. The lawyer had been warned by a police officer not to stop her vehicle for any reason. He had not even wanted us to go out of that office for any reason, but that meant not being able to intervene directly on behalf of the children we were trying to protect. It seemed as though it was one of the few interventions we did that was systematically effective.
We were about three quarters of the way to our destination when that phone rang yet again. This time her response was different. She froze briefly, then started dictating someone's name address and a number of other identifying details. I asked if it was another one of our colleagues. "No", she said, "He is the one who is co-ordinating the sale of the children - all the transactions have to go through him." She said that the criminals made a profit of about $30,000 per child sold, and they sold many per day. I went cold at that. She slowed the car at the next corner and told me to jump out. "Why?" as I obeyed instantly. He - the slaver - and his people were almost behind us. She knew that she had no chance of survivng their attack, but she wanted me to survive - at least long enough to pass on the information she had just given me.
When she had left the office she had told the secretary that only she would be in that car, you see. The murderers wouldn't have known she was travelling, except the secretary was the one leaking our activities to them. They had taken her children and parents hostage; they killed her husband in front of her for emphasis. The lawyer had suspected the source of the leak and had lied about where I was going - out to meet someone at my embassy instead, I think. I was already out of the car when she told me that and sped off. I watched the murderers' car pull up to the curb just then, intent on keeping her vehicle in sight. They apparently hadn't seen me slip out, because we had just rounded a corner that was screened by the streetscape. They had their guns out and trained on her vehicle by the time they pulled up level with me. Bullets were hitting the car - puffs of the impacts could be seen as they hit.
At that point my awareness shifted and I could here someone who sounded as though they might be being restrained, because they had lost control of their mental functions. I worked one floor up from the forensic psychiatric ward when I worked in the hospital and occasionally that would be something we would witness in the elevator as the patient was being sedated and brought up for a suicide watch on that floor. To me the voice sounded like the mom of the young fellow who was shot in his home at the beginning of February. It was as though the Mom's denial about a number of things had finally been broken and her mind couldn't cope with it. She was very dangerous at that point and I felt sick both for her and for her remaining family. I was puzzling why I would be shown that - if it were true - as I woke up. Nightmares indeed. Very troubling.
Today was clean-up from yesterday and preparation for the next round of housecleaning and repair. Each time I think I've come to the end of the resources I have to move to the next step of these renovations, the item or resource I am lacking shows up. A couple of times now I haven't quite known how to proceed next and then something serendipitous - in an article in the newspapers, the news on televison, on-line e-zines, or the books I am reading - will give me the hint or information I need. When I first thought about the amount of work and skill that was going to be necessary to get my home back in shape, I was feeling incredibly over-whelmed. However, it is as if as though some kindly entity has taken my project in hand and broken it down step by step for me. Today what I found were some very expensive wood finishing products I need to refurbish what is left of my furniture. All of it is real wood and mostly quite old. I think that is the reason it has survived so long in this very active home. It is more durable than any other material other than stone. Once all the tearing out and cleaning is completed, I can ask my one son who does that sort of thing as part of his work to teach me how to do the task properly. Now if there was some way of getting the right type and colour of paint I need for inside and out and another way to find the money to pay the bills... One step at a time, one day at a time. The constant and frequent appearances of synchronicities tells me that I am moving on the best path for me at this time. Faith will help a lot, although a job offer would make me happy too.
Best get to bed now though. I have planned a lot more work for tomorrow - the body and the almighty willin'.
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