I was truly in deep sleep, and woke up regretting that I had to leave. The dream was thus:
While I can't remember most of the dream, I know it had to do with the struggle between black and white people, and I am pretty sure it was long ago because it seemed to be on the African continent. I was still white, but I think I had a problem with most of what the christian white invaders were doing and how they were going about putting the people into slavery. I somehow befriended the pagan black tribe living in the region I was in and they didn't worship me, but instead welcomed me willingly into their tribe as if I were born into it. I remember that I returned from wherever I was to this place the african tribe lived, and it was the most beautiful magical place. When I entered, people were playing huge drums and smiling and eating what looked like peaches that they shared with me. Everyone in the tribe was content and lived off of the bountiful land. It was as close to eutopia as I have ever seen. I fell to my knees and started crying, staring up at the trees that flanked the plain I was on, because I realized that this beautiful place could not withstand the christian invasion, and that my tribe, my brothers would be too trusting of the rest of the whites because of me, and that they would be tricked into slavery and this eutopia, without its wonderful people to take care of it, would shrivel up and die. I remember telling myself to hold on to this image, to not let it go, and begging the gods to let me stay just a bit longer in this beautiful place. And then I woke up.
This was a dream so the historical events don't have to really be accurate at all, but that image is burned into my memory, of the plain and the tall trees on either side, and the family connection I felt with everyone there. I have never felt that before, even in dreamstate or real life.
