A plush memorial-garden setting sets off a barrage of heavenly imagery
Here’s the dream note from 6/1/16:
Williams [an engineering firm I worked for 35 years ago] has a memorial garden measuring 1/2 mile by 1/2 mile inside a full square mile grounds including the Michigan design and production facility. And I run into some of my engineering buddies nearby. Men whom I only knew remotely are speaking of my work for the company as splendid and caring, showing integrity. I feel poorly that I haven’t been more friendly to these men who obviously think exceptionally highly of me; though when we worked together, I was always courteous and complimentary. The garden is this amazing natural retreat, complete with a raging river with rapids into the corner of it, all so beautiful and full of life. It reminds me of heaven—a living heaven. There’s a spirit to it, yes of Sam [Sam Williams, the company founder], but also of everyone who chose to take part in his journey. I feel fulfilled and worth something far more than I customarily regard myself. I want Rose [former wife] to share this with me, and I also see on reflection just how beautiful my own soul is, how utterly amazing—despite the rough edges and early addictions—my creative work has been.
Synchronicity
It happens that one of the finer persons I ever met at Williams was a tall, bright Kansan[1] named Gerry. When I first arrived at Williams back in 1977, I went to work for the accessories group—lube pumps, fuel controls, start cartridges, electronics. There were only four of us at the outset; Gerry was the head ramrod of the electronics… and anything else that required more than simple arithmetic. He was, shall we say, the brains of the outfit… and without peer in that quality for most of his career at the company. Continue reading