Disembodied Head
I used to have this strange recurring nightmare of a bearded man. But the bearded man was actually a severed head. Let me start at the beginning. I was very young, maybe seven years old. And in the nightmare I was holding my mother’s hand as we walked down a long corridor. She was very quiet and we walked at a steady pace. Then we entered a wooden room. There was a small table with a bearded severed head. And there was a man standing near the table with the head. My mother directed me closer to the disembodied head. Suddenly, the beaded head turned and opened its eyes wide. It stared at me. I gasped. Then my mother put her hand on my shoulder and knelt down and spoke to me. “Do not be afraid,” she said, “You need to listen to what they have to say.” I remember the man standing by the head was watching me closely, yet his face seemed distant and I couldn’t recognize him. Yet at the same time he seemed very familiar. For some reason, I trusted the man so I then looked into the eyes of the bearded disembodied head. It stared deeply into me. I was frozen by its gaze. Then, in a deranged and strange voice, the head spoke one word. I woke up a moment later, disturbed and afraid. Yet I was glad that it was just a dream.
A few years later I had the nightmare again. But this time my mother wasn’t there are I spoke to the tall man. I was about fifteen at the time. And the tall man looked more familiar than ever. I remember talking with him about life and challenges that I am going to face. I can’t remember exactly what we talked about. But there was this distinct feel to the conversation, almost like I could trust this man with my life. There was a sadness in his voice, and yet hopefulness. It was as if he was preparing me for something. I listened attentively. All the while, the dismembered head stayed silent. Yet I was not as afraid of the bearded head. When I awoke, I felt as if I had gained something very valuable. What it was I truly did not know.
Many years later, when I was in my late 20’s, I had the nightmare again. Only this time, I spoke with the bearded dismembered head. We talked about urgency, and how there are objectives to be met. And there is little time. He was angry. It didn’t seem like he was angry at me. But more like he was angry at me AND himself. He knew of the future. He knew the flow of time. After I woke up, I felt like I had spoken to some strange elder entity or oracle. I had renewed vigor.
Then a few years later when I was in my late 20’s I grew a thick beard. One day I was looking in the mirror and I saw myself. I looked familiar, as always. But I felt like I had seen this face before, decades ago. I walked away and I realized that the disembodied bearded head from my nightmares had been my own. I took a few moments to reflect on my life. Did I have regrets? Sure. But I learned from every situation. Sometimes, I learned more than other times. Yet there were specific times in my life when I felt like I was getting a message, or at least a strong emotion, telling me about things to come…or perhaps opportunities ahead. Alignment with this potential often caused me either invigoration and a sense of purpose, or else a deep sense of unworthiness and trepidation.
The time that had passed went by so fast in hindsight. Yet the individual moments took an eternity. Perhaps there is more to memory than simple knowing or existing. So that night, when I rested in bed. I closed my eyes. And I relaxed, sending a message to my younger self in my dreams.
-Tyler