I dreamed of wearing my bright green coat, the kind of green like newly opened leaves on a Maple tree. Its green stood out compared to everyone’s drab grey and brown and black. They were in uniform. I was not.
I was preparing to board a train when a man in uniform told me that I could not enter because of the green of my coat. I asked him why but he didn’t answer. The train left without me. Incredulous, I stood there. Some time went by when another train arrived. I waited in line to climb the steps thinking the man who had kept me from the first train must have had some some kind of green phobia. There couldn’t be another like that. But I was wrong. The same man stood between me and the steps and repeated the prohibition of my green coat. I felt the urge to argue and asked him why. He drew a pistol, a small black gun in his right hand and aimed it at me, or was it a wrench?
I woke up.
Dreams of terror are becoming frequent. What is the dream telling me? Green is the color of living things, trees and plants and grass. Green represents my connection to the vitality of life. Green FORBIDDEN? Who made this rule? Is every living thing to be harvested and converted into money? Does turning life into “things” include transforming ourselves? Those who benefit are the .01%, the people we do not see as they travel in their own planes, in chauffeur driven cars from one mansion or resort to another. They are waited on by lesser folk in greys and blacks with white aprons and cuffs and bibs. The servants wait on in silence, yes sir and no sir and as you want sir/madam. In this fog of servitude, no one is seen.
The gun in the policeman’s hand represents the force of a consuming government. Grey clad denizens trudge along under restrictive laws and surveillance. As a wrench in the man’s hand, the weapon represents labor joining force with the fascist regime to ensure gainful employment. The man takes on the required mood of hatred and suppression. Nazis had Jews called Kapos to run their extermination camp houses in which starving, frozen prisoners lay dying on shared straw mattresses, one bunk beneath the other. The Kapos stayed alive by being lethal, angry and emotionally dead.
But why have we all become insane, ready to sacrifice life for the instruments of wealth? Is there no pleasure in existing, breathing fresh air and smelling flowers? Sacrifice is part of the American culture. The indigenous natives were murdered by settlers. Slaves grew their owner’s investments astronomically. Now poor people labor for corporations in prisons. Outside, people work as “temps” without health care or vacations or retirement pensions. Wages are carried by the winds of profit to shores where people work for way less. Work slaves are lucky to get tips. Sacrifice of the many for the few has been going on here since the Mayflower.
My wearing green is a revolutionary act. We have worn grey and black too long, far too long now. Green is the color of what keeps us alive and sane.