I'm standing in the Inner Theater. It's a big room with a padded floor, a throne at one end, a great heap of props at the other, and in the middle, an audience lounging on a ring of giant pillows around a bright-lit patch in the center.

A maniac is rummaging through the theatrical props, tossing aside pillows and clothes and Tarot images, until s/he comes up with two swords, and whirls around the hall, madly waving the blades. I don't want to get close, though the nut's given no hint of violent intentions. One woman stands within range--the referee or director of this psychodrama scene, I hope. I hope it's just a scene, not someone who's truly flipped out.

I grab two wooden staves from the Tarot heap, knowing this labels me an artist, a dreamer, a dial-a-psychic, or a pyromaniac--take your pick, I guess. Warily, I walk around the edge of the scene, whimpering "Please don't attack me. I don't want to fight you." I am scared, but this exaggeration is shameless!

When I reach the far side, I leap up on the throne, and yell "HA HA! King of the Mountain!"

Now I pull out two other Tarot items: huge cleavers or scissor blades, at least five feet long. I lift them and pose them as awkward scissors and threaten "Anyone trying to score a goal will have to get by THESE."

Sword Waver tries to touch the flat white wood diamond on the throne that is the goal, like home plate in baseball, and about the same size and shape. I get the crazy's head in the scissors and squeeze the neck gently and yell "CHOP!" to indicate s/he loses. But just as I do, s/he reaches out and touches the diamond, "dying" a second later.

"I win" says Sword Nut. "No rule that says you have to SURVIVE the game!"

That's true. "Congratulations!" I say. "For the next game, though, we have to change the rules some more." Apparently we've been making up rules as we learn.

"Yeah, okay. From now on, if you die, you lose."

"And... what'll my rule-change be... Oh! If you hover around the edges for six weeks or more, game time, you lose. You have to try to score at least once every month and a half!"

Six weeks is not long in game time, for days go by in seconds when you're playing in the Inner Theater...

"Okay. Deal."

And I wake.

NOTES ON WAKING

• In Tarot, the Two of Swords/Spades means delusion. What comes to mind is... I've been picking disastrous dates, or worse yet, NOT picking: letting friends talk me into dating women I'm not even attracted to!
• The Two of Wands/Staves/Clubs means (to me) bonking your head in search of an elusive goal.
• Say "don't hurt me" and avoid the center, outa fear I'll be cut dead = I do often act fragile and hide my sexual interest, to avoid the pain of rejection... I'd almost rather not date at all.
• Throne = control of my life!
• Grab the throne, and try keep the mad sword-waver off it = repressing my passions!
• Passion is willing to DIE to win... but is ALSO willing to change the rules! An opponent, not an enemy!
• The goal is a diamond. In Tarot, diamonds = pentacles = material success. But they're also the stone of choice on wedding rings... true love?
• No longer OK to die just to "score" = my body reacts so strongly to stress, I often get sick after a bad date or rejection.
• Well. It looks like I've cut a deal with my own passions--I won't kill myself for sex, and if I'm hurt I can back off to heal... in exchange for a time limit on moping! After a few weeks, I HAVE to try dating again! Back in the swim.

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