I had gone to a Doctor’s Office to explore possible employment there. My experiences playing the role of non-medical caregiver had opened the door to new worlds and an array of people with various needs. Even though I felt the satisfaction of being of service to my fellow human beings and the benefit of personal enrichment to my otherwise solitary life, there were still enormous gaps in intellectual stimulation.

This is an accurate summary of my waking life perspective. Thoughts of returning to university to gain a level of skill in the sciences have come and gone and come back again. Perhaps, I reasoned in my dream, I could be useful with my already acquired creative, analytical and organizational skills and learn while doing. This caused me some trepidation but I ventured forth nonetheless.

Much to my delight and surprise the Doctor’s Office was abuzz with a collective sort of activity, rather hummy and hive-like. I was welcomed wholeheartedly as a prospective member of the already functioning team. Nothing was ordered in the usual way. Its structural underpinnings seemed to run on a higher understanding of the human psyche that was beyond my immediate grasp.

The employees were niched in their areas of interest and expertise but they complimented each other seamlessly. They were encouraged to solve for answers not just intellectually but also intuitively. Everyone was valued and rewarded for their unique contribution. Instead of following a rote course of routines, there was an exchange of ideas. More like a family than a work place.

What do you think of this idea? How does it strike you? Where does it miss? A hint of labyrinthine structure lay just beneath the surface. It was a thoroughly engaging atmosphere. The Doctor made his appearance a few moments later. He was utterly charming and happy to see me. That’s when I got the sense the entire office was involved in the interview. A wave of acceptance came over me as he showed me some other projects under way before he drifted off to other work.

I wanted to talk more with him but he would return in a few minutes to monitor my “progress” with getting to know the team. There was a random string of miniature lights strewn over a doorway, a splash of teal on white vellum, deeper into the office complex prayer-flag style room dividers made out of cotton sheets served as room dividers with optional floor seating for those that preferred sitting in lotus at work.

The acoustics were inexplicably perfect, such that dialogue didn’t bounce off of cold, hard surfaces or bleed from one location to another. You could hear without the interference of a lot of ambient noise. People were inspired to work and were not at all anxious about the time. Many stayed late because it was the best place in their lives to be. And so it was a very happy and promising dream.

Such conditions do exist. That’s what it was like, for a time, working in story development for Disney Animated Features. Although the intentional use of color and light were not apparent in the dream, I have often thought that the sterility of most doctors’ offices are a glaring oversight. Soothing indirect lighting would not only be easier on the eyes but vibrant, healing swaths of color and harmonious sounds somehow belong there as much or more than anywhere else.