I'm in my childhood home, but... it's also a starship, commanded by Jean-Luc Picard of Star Trek. Like wave-particle duality, house or ship may dominate in certain conditions, but neither is the whole story...

Ship or house, we're in deep space, nearing a little-known world whose dominant race is rumored to have vast mental powers. Full telepaths, at the very least.

Though this place is in bright daylight, in its aspect as my childhood home, it's 0300 ship time, and everyone but the Captain's asleep. He walks the corridors, brooding. Absent-mindedly, as he reaches the bridge, he slips into the other aspect--the bridge corresponds to the back rooms, porch, and yard. To his surprise, delicate banners of damp cloth drape over windowsills and fences, in brilliant colors. Someone's been dyeing silk. But everyone's asleep!

No. Not everyone. He finds a nurse up. She's been following strange intuitions about the aliens--and hers told her to paint all this cloth!

The Captain theorizes "We're both receiving faint telepathic broadcasts from the world ahead." He reaches out and (in the dim light of the bridge consoles) touches her where her Third Eye should be.

She wonders if he's coming on to her. He looks so different from usual, in this light coming from below--she's not used to being up on the bridge. Since he woke up and prowled the ship not expecting anyone to be up, he didn't put on a shirt. "For an old man, he's in surprising shape!" she thinks. "If he is coming on to me, I wonder how I want to respond?"

He suddenly realizes how she's seeing him... and he says gently "I'm interested in finding out about the people ahead and their influence on human intuition..."

And she realizes this is his sexual orientation. To... discovery. To the unknown. Rather than to people or any actions connected to people. He's married, and faithful.

Married to mystery.

NEXT EVENING

A friend invited me over to her house for dinner, then turned on Star Trek, which I rarely watch on my own these days.

On the screen is my dream, distorted, a weaker hit than many of my predictive dreams, but unmistakable. A woman who looked like the nurse in my dream has a psychic compulsion to reach a mysterious planet ahead--and starts transforming into a native of that world. Following her intuition uncritically, she nearly loses herself forever. A veiled warning about overdeveloping my own intuitive side?

The world ahead in my dream may symbolize some approaching psychic revelation, but it's partly a joke--an image of psychic power that's psychic itself, but doesn't reveal that till the next night!

Captain Picard is clear--the part of me that just wants to get to the truth. He has great strength and curiosity--an ideal explorer. But he's not a whole person either: just too responsible and disciplined to let himself fall in love. He, too, pays a price for being himself.

But once you get in the habit, it's so tempting. To be your true self--it's so strong! And so rare.

Yet they'd both be better off mixed, tempered, doubtful--not quite themselves.

Something more.

And I would be too.

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