I was poor, sick and working part time at the Stanford Library. I wrote my dreams every morning no matter what--even if that made me late for work. My bosses and co-workers saw me as a space case and a slob (I had no good clothes). But after seeing John Belushi as "Samurai Optometrist" on Saturday Night Live, I dreamed I was... Samurai Librarian.

Stalk through glass doors In the robe and sword. At the clicking portal, Show the feudal card. Colleagues hiss and gossip "What a slob he is! Wearing a bathrobe to work-- Can't he even DRESS?" Dreamwork does take samurai discipline. Dreams inevitably lead you on paths in conflict with undreamers' values. That's their job. And your discipline--the Samurai robe--looks to the undreamers like superstition and laziness-- the bathrobe of a slob. Late for work because you had to write a DREAM? Doing what your DREAMS say? You mistake dreams for REALITY! And so on. And so on! That Samurai returned in other dreams-- as my guardian angel.

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