Something useful in the world

A dream [written June 4th, 2016]:

I’ve started a new contract job, so the environment and people are all new to me. The lead consultant explains my task. He’s very bright, one of those impressive all-rounders with a “first-class brain”. I find myself speaking intelligently to him, so I feel it will go OK, despite the task being at the boundary of my understanding, or a little beyond. I suppose that I will pick it up soon enough. As it goes on, I realise I am getting nowhere and understand nothing. All my colleagues have large maps on their desks, as do I; indeed, my work is based on the map. Except that I’ve lost mine.

A tall chest of drawers stands against the wall but it’s so unstable that it threatens its collapse if touched. It seems to have been standing there since the nineteenth century, when it was part of a workshop. Now I see that the walls are canvas: the office is a large tent, sectioned off. I wander back and forth in growing frustration, looking for my map. then I realize I’ve forgotten what to do when I find it. Why am I here at all? It’s a charade, a simulacrum of work.

Now I hear a baby’s pathetic cry, so I go round a partition and see a tiny baby lying on the ground, wrapped in swaddling clothes. It has no eyes and no nose, just a mouth. “Oh, no!” I exclaim. “This is not fair. People can’t just dump their unwanted babies on us.”

But then in the shadows I see a woman, sitting quietly, veiled and covered like a Muslim. She comes to me and speaks quite good English. It’s clear that she genuinely loves the baby and is not a professional beggar. I reach in my pocket, planning to give her £2. I only have some 50p pieces, and when I take them out they change into prettier coins, triangular and hinged like butterflies, made of the brightest silver. I hand them over and out of the shadows come more women, all of them ready to express their humble gratitude.

I see that I should continue giving for a while, perhaps daily for two weeks. Then they will organise themselves so that they can work instead of beg.

Comparing my useless “consultancy” job with their struggle for survival, I see clearly that these women are the ones doing something useful in the world.