Last night I dreamt that I died, saw the "Mansion with Many Rooms," and was brought back from the dead to be part of some supper hero crime-fighting team.
The dream started when I was part of the Roman Imperial Court. Over lunch we discussed the benefits of empire, and I was arguing vigorously that a particular people should be allowed to keep their language and customs. The conversation moved on to the Ceasar's son, who had just been born. I was sent to the priests to observe the ritual of choosing his name.
The Roman Priest carefully three small darts from bird feathers and needles and then flung them at the wall. I helped measure their exact height off the floor, which somehow translated into a name.
Quickly the dream transformed and I found myself sneaking into a room full of RIM (Research in Motion, the people that make Blackberries) employees and executives. It was a preflight briefing for a corporate charter flight. We all loaded up into some wide body jet. After takeoff we were enjoying a close up view of Manhattan when the airplane pitched up radically, stalled, shuddered, and then began to yawl. I knew instantly that the pilot didn't have enough altitude to recover and that we were most probably going to die.
I decided to spend my final seconds saying the Lord's Prayer and thinking of my family. As we crashed into the East River I was thinking of my little Henry.
When I "woke up," I was confused and disoriented. I was inside, a large building. As I began to wonder around I saw that the different areas of the building were decorated in radically different design schemes. I admired some of the designs. Many of the rooms had projection screens. There were some people around, but I didn't want to talk to anyone.
In the dream, I then saw some of the news coverage of the crash. Apparently the pilot was the only survivor. He had apparently tried to ditch the plane in the river like Sully had, but failed and as riddled with remorse. Soon I realized that there were other members of the flight in the mansion. One of them had a digital audio recorder (he had been part of a video crew). When we played it, we heard the sounds of the crash and then a woman's voice explained that we had been brought back from the dead and taken to a secret island where we would be crime-fighting super heroes.
At that point the real Henry woke me up with some kicking and thrashing around.
It was a neat dream. I think my favorite part was seeing my mind's version of heaven. Maybe I'll get to explore it again, sometime!