Living The Dream

OK. The short version is; I lost a ring, I found the ring. The magic is in the details.

In the 1960's, when I attended high school, it was a nearly universal rite of passage during one's senior year to get a class ring. Big and clunky and far from stylish the ring was both a milestone and a symbol of membership in a semi-exclusive club.

Shortly after starting college the ring would lose much of its coolness factor, owing to the fact that the potential for a college class ring was just a couple semesters away. So it was for me. The massive bauble with the dark blue "stone" was just a keepsake from a period of my past life that I was very willing to put behind me. I wore the ring less and less often.

Though my perceived value of the ring waned, my grandmother thought it was simply wonderful. Then again, until the day she died, she also praised to the high heavens her copy of my high school senior portrait, the one where my hair was cut short and slicked down with a little wave frozen above my ample forehead. I still don't look as old now, more than forty years later, as I do in that embarrassing photograph.

When I would visit her, with my long hair, struggling beard and artist attitude, Gram would invariably mention my high school class ring and, looking wistfully toward the photo, say, "I love that photograph. You were such a nice looking boy."

During one such visit Gram asked where my ring was. I casually noted I hadn't worn it that day, and assured her I'd probably wear it the next time I came by. But I didn't. I couldn't remember where I had it last. I began searching for the ring, nonchalantly at first, then with Gram's prodding, more earnestly. The ring was nowhere to be found. I gradually gave up trying to find the ring, and learned to live with Gram's disappointment.

Nearly two years passed, during which, unless I was visiting Gram, I thought little of the lost ring; until one early morning when I had a dream.

In the dream, it was late afternoon when a neighbor from next door came over to ask if I'd like to play a little frisbee, something we did occasionally. Though I was not fond of him, I was a frisbee fanatic, and I agreed to a game of throw and catch. Frisbee was transcendent.

Tossing a frisbee is an exercise in smoothness, fluidity and elegant aerodynamics. There is no scoring, no winning; each flip of the disk is judged on its merits, which include degree of difficulty, potential to be caught and style. A throw that arrives dead center to the chest of the receiver, catchable without moving his feet, is considered trite unless it was delivered while running away with a half twist under-handed. Better to offer a high arcing fling to the right that sails impossibly away only to stall, hesitate and miraculously boomerang back so the other player can anticipate the trajectory, trot to the landing zone and catch the frisbee behind his back.

In the dream, as we had done other times in waking reality, we took positions facing one another about thirty yards apart, standing in the dirt road that fronted both our houses. Just to my left was the telephone pole with a streetlight that marked the boundary between my house and another neighbor.

We tossed the frisbee long enough that daylight waned and the streetlight flickered on. It soon became difficult to see the black Master Frisbee we were using as it flew in and out of the cone of light from the streetlight and into and out of the deepening shadows.

Eventually, the enjoyment faded from our game like the daylight from the darkening sky and I called out, "It's getting too dark to see. How about one more throw and we'll call it a day?"

Still in the dream, I suddenly noticed a sparkle on the ground, three or four paces to my left. Something was catching the light from the streetlight and reflecting it to where I stood. I called to my partner to wait a minute and focused on the spot on the side of the road that drew me closer. I squatted down and brushed away some loose dirt, then had to dig with my fingers to unearth the source of the little golden beacon. It was my high school class ring, the blue glass stone cracked and chipped, the thick gold band bent. Then I woke up.

I remembered the dream for a short while, then never thought of it again for the rest of the day; not when the neighbor came by to ask for a frisbee game, or during the game or when evening fell and the street light flickered to life.

But when it got too dark to see and I heard myself say, "How about one more throw and we'll call it a day" the overwhelming realization that this had all happened before struck me so abruptly I nearly forgot to breathe.

I held up my hand and sought to remember what...when...how. It hit me. This all happened in my dream this morning. But there was something more. More.

There was a glint, a sparkle...over there...but where? I saw nothing, nothing but hard packed dirt and loose stones. Focusing on the patch of earth that drew me in the dream I moved a little left, then right, tilted my head this way and that until I caught a feeble glimmer of light on the vast gray ground.

I walked carefully forward straining to keep the pinpoint of light visible, and even when I stooped low to get a better look there was little to see.

It took more digging than I remembered in the dream but, when I was finished, I was holding the ring I had lost two years before. The stone had a couple of minor scratches and the band was a little dinged, but not nearly as badly as in my dream.

As for me, I was left a bit dazed and amazed; changed forever, never to be able to deny the supernatural, the mystical, the magical.

This was more than premonition, more than deja vu. My dream did more than foretell the future, it forced the issue and demanded the outcome. It turned a skeptic into a believer.


© Copyright CPrice 2010. All Rights Reserved.

Comments 21 comments

Joyce 6 years ago

I loved it. It was amazing how your dream helped you find your ring.


Rick Lenchus 6 years ago

Enjoyable story and real. Keep writing. You've got a fan

Sensei


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

Thank you so much Sensei. Your encouragement is very much appreciated.

Oos


Wayne Brown profile image

Wayne Brown 6 years ago from Texas

That is quite a good story. I felt like I was there witnessing the frisbee throwing. I think you should take it beyond the outcome and give the reader more insight into your relationship with your Gram and the return of the ring. You have discover an interest aspect of generation ties...especially with those you respect and how you can still feel the weight of their influence and expectation....it makes you want to live up to them. Thanks for a good read. WB


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

Thank you very much Wayne.

Funny you suggest delving more deeply into my relationship with my Grandmother and the destiny of the ring.

In the story I left unsaid my pondering the possibility that is was my Grandmother's desire to rescue the ring that was the source of the psychic energy at work. I really didn't much care about the ring.

My family, Gram included, is Welsh...where the classic image of Witches originated. Hmmmmmm!

Since this happened I have routinely left paper and pen near the bed when I sleep, in case I dream of the Lottery Jackpot numbers.

I'll invite you to the party!


ACSutliff profile image

ACSutliff 6 years ago

CP,

I am back and not disappointed! This story is so believable and has left me wondering about your take on the paranormal. Have you written anything else about mystical dreams or the supernatural?

I don't dream often enough, but when I do, it's never about me, and I always write them down. Some of them would make interesting stories, if I just took the time. I have also had a feeling that I was living a dream once too, but I was so young when it happened. I enjoy the way you described how that feels!


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

AC,

This story is 100% true. I lived it.

I haven't had any other dreams that so powerfully directed me or predicted the future, but I have had some that opened my eyes to truths I had been reluctant to see or too addled to admit; some involving relationships or their remnants.

I have had dreams in which I was somewhere I have never actually been, yet if you took me there I could recognize and negotiate the neighborhood like a native.

And I have dreamt up inventions I hadn't thought of while waking, (I am an inventor as well as an artist, writer, etc.)

You should absolutely continue writing down your dreams. And I encourage you to turn some into stories. I would love to read them.

I love to dream, and go to bed hoping I'll have some good ones I can remember when I wake. Without dreams sleep would be such a waste of time!

CP


ACSutliff profile image

ACSutliff 6 years ago

CP,

I love to dream too, but I don't very much. So, oddly enough, I have had two dreams the last two days (probably because I slept in) and they were both about me, and both rather disturbing. I dreamed that I went to Disney World and had an awful time. I also had a dream about a coworker coming on to me. Very uncomfortable!

I think it's neat that you are an inventor! Do you write hubs about your experiences with that? Your dreams sound very vivid. My dreams are always so foggy and vague, my imagination always has to fill in the spaces once I wake up. I will try to write a story about one of my dreams, just for you! :)

~AC


Micky Dee profile image

Micky Dee 6 years ago

Yo Christopher! That's some wild dejavoodoo there Dude!


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

AC, I'll be looking forward to your story.

CP


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

Got that right, Mick.

I've always marveled at the fact my phychic powers led me to find a ring I couldn't care less about, but has failed me miserably in predicting major milestones in my life I might like to have had at least a warning about.

We're shooin' craps here!

CP


Healing Touch profile image

Healing Touch 6 years ago from Minnetonka, MN

Christopher Price,

I really enjoyed this hub. You had told me to read it since in my hub I write about Big Dreams by Carl Jung. Nice job.


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

I thought this particular dream fit the Big Dream criteria according to your hub. I hope you liked the telling of the tale.

CP


Dawn71 profile image

Dawn71 6 years ago from UK

Awesome! Really fascinating story, brought a smile to my face reading it. Extremely well written too, very much enjoyed. Your style of writing makes reading very easy, descriptive and flowing. Great!


Ivorwen profile image

Ivorwen 6 years ago from Hither and Yonder

I could really use some dreams like this right now! What a wonderful story, even if what you found was not something you highly valued. Evidently, it was of more worth than you thought.


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

Dawn;

So glad you liked it. Every word is true.

Stick around and browse. I hope you find something more to enjoy.

Thanks.

CP


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

Ivorwen:

You're right, the experience became the treasure.

Thanks for taking time to read and comment.

CP


acaetnna profile image

acaetnna 6 years ago from Guildford

You certainly do seem to have psychic powers and I really enjoyed your writing.


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 6 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

acaetnna:

I can't take credit for my occasional paranormal moment, but I thank you for your approval of my writing.

Please stick around and browse. I hope you find more to like.

CP


moonfroth profile image

moonfroth 4 years ago from Rural BC (Canada) & N of Puerto Vallarta (Mexico)

A wonderful sense and /pace/ of dramatic build-up here. The reader is pulled into the opening details, becomes CONCERNED and empathetic about what is happening, how it will work out. In short, the elements of STORY are seamlessly woven and draw the reader forward. A masterful piece of work. A lot of writers, I think, get caught up in"significance", "symbolism" or some other sort o mission they want to promote, forgetting that i there ain't a story, there's no reason for the piece to BE. Very well done. Thank you; I shall certainly return.


Christopher Price profile image

Christopher Price 4 years ago from Vermont, USA Author

Clark, this was my first post when I joined Hubpages. I figured that, if nothing else, I could at least document this mysterious incident for future generations of Prices.

I can nearly hear the sounds of feathers rustling as I stretched and spread my writer's wings after a considerably lengthy hiatus.

Thanks very much for visiting and leaving such a substantial and substantive comment. It makes me really want to write, for people who really read.

CP

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