I’m very successful in the field of music or movie production or something similar. At one point I’m in a meeting room with two women and I suddenly tell them that I’m not actually famous and successful. I’m referring to the fact that I’m dreaming, but I don’t express it that way. I say that I have created them, and that sometimes I create people and control them completely (meaning that I’m aware of the dream and choose exactly what happens; although in reality this never happens to me), and other times I don’t know what the people I create will do, which is the case for these two women. Then there is a man in sumo-like underwear running in the corridor past the room (which has glass walls). I point out that I created him too.

Apparently there’s also a man that has been very important in my endeavors. He is a bit tall, not dark and maybe wavy hair, a long but not thin face. We are walking outside with some other people in a great plaza. Erasing my identity (and I guess everybody else’s) is still happening. The man becomes smaller and smaller until he has the body of a little boy, but still the same face. He runs ahead, and I run after. I think he’s upset about the change, since he’s essentially lost the whole life he has built. I comfort him like a little boy. We are in a great gathering of many people, something is going on, and people are standing or sitting looking in one direction. I’m sitting next to him, stroking him gently on his back.

There is another event with a group of several people. I don’t remember the details, but it seems like an exercise in letting go of everything. At some point everyone is lying on their backs with their limbs stretched out. Maybe this includes me. But then some movement occurs, which bothers me. Pretty soon the gathering has evolved into a dance class or dance performance, the participants striving to get it right. To me this is contrary to what we were trying to achieve. I walk away dismayed. This event was apparently going on in some corner of the great plaza or in a room adjoining it.

For the second time (or it feels like that in the dream) I stand in front of a huge monument mounted on or carved into the side a tall stone wall. It consists of gigantic statues of the Greek Gods (somewhat similar in appearance – or at least to the impression I get from – the Great Fountain sculpture from Gustav Vigeland). Some statues are mounted high up, others further down. There is something like an enormous gate or arch in the middle, and a fountain or pond under it, with the Gods arrayed around; but it’s all carved in stone.

This time, I decide to finally address them: “Gods of Olympus!” I don’t remember the next words, but I command them to come. They come alive, breaking out of the wall. People start screaming and running away. The lower part, the pond, cracks open and a big head with snake for hair emerges. I look at that face and the other Gods, and think that they look a certain way, not completely natural, but I know it’s because they are sculpted like that, and Ray Harryhausen comes to mind.

The gods come after the people. Then I too become afraid and start running. Maybe I’m not ready to give up everything anyway? There’s a low tree in the middle of the plaza. With all the people running everywhere, I think maybe my best chance of escape is to climb up and hide there. But the Greek god of trees or plants sees me and starts transforming the tree so that I’m absorbed in and merged with it. I’m terrified but then I think that this is exactly what I’ve been seeking, so I should be content.

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