On the morning of a day off, I had a long, relaxed breakfast with my partner at home. He told me that he had just seen an interesting dream the previous night. His “interesting” dreams usually bore me, but I reluctantly agreed to hear it out of habit.
In his dream, it was my birthday. We had a party by ourselves in a fictional shabby apartment with half-price deli foods from the clearance shelves of a supermarket. A leftover of three-day-old dessert was converted into my birthday cake and waiting on the kitchen counter. A door bell rang although we didn’t invite anyone and nobody was supposed to come.
My partner opened the door and two Japanese couples showed up. Each couple was fictional, rich old friends of mine in the dream. They were prim in luxury brand clothes and bringing expensive sweets as gifts. They had apparently expected a glamorous home party in a gorgeous apartment. At the sight of them, I shouted to my partner, “Let them in and keep company!” and stormed into my room for a change and makeup because I was wearing worn-out clothes and no makeup. My characteristic wasn’t fictional and I was a vain person even in his dream. He showed them into the living room. They looked disappointed and regretful that they came to where they didn’t belong while he hurriedly cleared the table and fixed drinks for them. Then, there was the second door bell.
This time, a modest woman was standing at the foot of the stairs that led to the outside of the building. She had something handmade as a gift and looked up nervously. “Another guest showed up!” my partner yelled toward me. I rushed out, ran down the stairs, tripped, and dived into a big puddle beside the woman. He saw me sprawling in mud, with my best dress ruined and red and blue from my makeup spread on the surface of muddy water. This part of his dream was familiar to me. In reality, about a month ago, I was walking with my partner looking upward somehow and fell over a big rock. I landed onto hard asphalt and hit my cheek. My palms got grazed badly and covered with blood. That clumsily shocking sight must have remained in his brain.
At this point of his dream, he was resigned to a ruined birthday and his motivation gave out. He went back inside and said to the couples of preceding visitors, “Hidemi dived into a puddle. Would you mind leaving now?” They seemed relieved to be released from a wretched place like this and hurried away.
Just after they had left, strangers appeared one after another. An American man with a camera, a Chinese family and a group of Southeast Asian women came in, all asking “Is this Hidemi’s apartment?” They were looking around curiously and taking photographs. Other people of various races kept coming and the apartment that began to expand was packed with them. He saw more people from the world heading toward my apartment. He became worried that everyone would be disappointed at this place that had nothing to see, nothing interesting. On the contrary, all of those who came seemed content, talking each other at ease or just sitting in a relaxed mood. Looking at them, he realized that what people seek was healing. And he woke up.
Little by little, the number of people around the world who visit my website has been growing since last year. Some visitors leave a comment or a like, some follow me. Those kind actions may have contributed to his dream.
In the meantime, I also had a dream on the same night. I was with Will Smith and a world-famous dancer in my apartment. A box was delivered for me, that was a secret award for the most distinguished person of each fields. Both Will and the dancer had received it before. “You got it!”, they exclaimed. I opened the box excitedly, and there came out a pink hippopotamus headgear. I put it onto my head with profound reverence, felt a sense of achievement, and woke up. In Japanese, ‘hippopotamus’ means ‘Kaba’. If you read it backwards, it is pronounced ‘Baka’, which means ‘fool’ in English.
After the mix down of our new song, I couldn’t manage to get it to the suitable volume. Instead of taking it to a recording studio to adjust it at the mastering, I decided to do the mastering by installing Cubase AI on my different computer, recording the song to it and increasing the volume.
The other night, I had a dream in which I took the song to a studio engineer for the mastering. I listened to the finished sound by the engineer and screamed in despair, “No! This isn’t what I wanted at all! This is too muffled!” And I woke up. It seems that I think the sound of our new song isn’t crisp enough. Now that my dream told me so, I will use the equalizer again on the mastering. Thus, our new song is in a final burst. Well, I’ve been saying this for over six months now…
Episode From Surviving in Japan / Hidemi Woods
When I was a teenager, I always wanted to be a singer-songwriter but I was inclined to become a mixing engineer at one time.
That was mainly because I believed that I was too ugly to be a singer-songwriter and should work behind the scenes in the music business. Also, I was a big fan of a Japanese band called Tulip then and I thought working as a mixing engineer was the only way to get close to them. Besides, a person who works on the console at a recording studio or a concert hall looked so cool to me. When I was a senior in high school, there was a course guidance book in the classroom. I looked up how to become a mixing engineer in it. A few technical colleges were introduced there but they required a high score on physics. I was good at math, but in physics, I had no hope. So, I couldn’t find a way to be a mixing engineer.
Time passed, I noticed that I’ve been sitting at the computer console alone for the mix down of my new song all the time lately. It can mean that my dream came true after all. Only one thing is missing. I get no pay…
Episode From Surviving in Japan / Hidemi Woods
Because I’m cheap, I’m always careful about money. So much so, it penetrates into my dreams. I had a dream about visiting NY the other night. I joined a bus tour for sightseeing. The bus stopped for a break and there was a drink vendor. It had freshly squeezed fruit juice along with soft drinks. Everyone from the tour enjoyed the juice. I was thirsty and tired, and the fresh juice seemed perfect. But it cost $3 more than soft drinks. I really wanted the juice, knowing that would be full of vitamins and good for health, but I also needed to save money for my uncertain future. I was torn by a mere $3. Eventually, I gave up the juice and ordered a soft drink, feeling envious of others who were having juice.
I woke up and found that I had missed a golden opportunity to spend money extravagantly. Being in a dream is the only time that I can spend as much money as I want. One of the worst dreams for me is to save money in it. I pounded my bed from regret. I could have had delicious juice…
Episode From Surviving in Japan / Hidemi Woods
It was my grandfather’s birthday on Sunday. He would be 100 years old if he was still alive. His motto was to live until 100 years old. The reason was simple. A TV show. There was a show in Japan that introduced people who were 100 years old along with their family and their daily life. My grandfather’s dream was to appear and be introduced in the show.
He always had to be the center of attention. Every time his name happened to be mentioned in a local paper or a community bulletin, he would underline his name, clip the article, and show it to everyone. To me, it looked so stupid because he kept pointing at the underlined name although I knew his name duly. He craved to be famous. So, to be 100 years old was the chance of a lifetime for him to be on TV. He instructed us to be prepared for the filming. For instance, he told me to return home on the day of filming and answer questions about him from a reporter in front of the camera. His dream didn’t come true and I was the only one who celebrated his 100th birthday…
episode from An Old Tree in Kyoto / Hidemi Woods
Last night, I had a dream about being disliked. I got on the bus with my mother and there were a few dogs aboard. She told me to pick one dog as a favorite and I pointed at one dog. He looked at me startled, wrenched open the window and ran away by jumping out of the bus. Then, my mother detailed what she hated about me one by one, and it went forever.
When I looked outside, a teenage boy was slapped and scolded by his father who shouted “You’re no use! You’re a disgrace!” I was thinking, “I’m not the only one who isn’t loved. He is having a worse day than I am. Maybe my life is better than his. I’ll put this on my blog today anyway.” And, I woke up…
I still linger on the dream I had, in which a monk told me that I had only 25 years more to live. I’ve given thought to life and death. I have plans for my future and a fairly good deal of hope, I guess. Suppose I work hard and achieve something, but the remaining time to enjoy it is so short. What’s the difference between now and then? Maybe life has nothing to do with achievement. Without realizing, I get influenced in a good way from someone, and I could influence someone as well. If I can encourage someone depressed through my music or whatever I do as I was encouraged, that’s more wonderful than superficial success. I think that’s life is all about. And above all, I’m not alone…