I was looking at a rack of light blue dress shirts. Not a hanging rack, but one of those cubby hole / tables that hold the shirts in packages. Wrapped around a slice of cardboard, a thousand pins in them, wrapped in celo-plastic.
One shirt caught my eye because, though it looked like all the other variations of light blue long sleeve 'dress' shirts that offer the business man a sense of individual choice... this one had a plaid print on the insides of the sleeves. I suppose this would only show a flash of wild expression when during a particularly hot and long winded presentation or casual after hours meeting the jacket was removed and the sleeves were rolled up in a distant homage to men who do real work for a living.
As I considered what this meant, I turned around to find myself suddenly in a corporate office full of young men wearing the uniform. Sitting at desks with their ties and suits and variations of the light blue shirt each crying out to be noticed. As I walked through the office their sad empty eyes met mine with a telepathic guilt, begging to be saved from their hell. It was a small somewhat dingy office and I wove my way between the desks, which were all close together, until I came to the boss.
The oldest man in the room, he was perfectly cast as upper middle management that had spent a lifetime supporting this logic. He was probably not the top boss, as symbolized by a closed door to a private office behind him. He shared the same room as all the younger blue shirts, knowing he was next in line to enter the private door.
I sat down across his desk from him. We had something to discuss. It was about someone I knew (abstractly) who worked there and had encountered some kind of difficulty. I was there to discuss it and hopefully make it better. I can't remember what was said, only that he took a typically resistant corporate line position on the matter. He was being an ass. Smug and self assured, using corporate newspeak to deflect any responsibility. Having nothing to lose, and not buying into this cultures hierarchy I began to fight for what is right. I remember launching into a kind of analytical soliloquy. I was forcing him to look at his actions and his attitude about this matter of someone I knew who worked for him.
I know that at one point I said something like "... if you look deeply into your heard, and you feel that kernel of resistance, you know, just like we all know what is wrong with your corporate position on these things. And as you go deeper you will feel it start to crumble as emotion, compassion and right mindedness take over...". Those weren't my exact words, but it was along those philosophical lines. I remember specifically using the word 'crumble' but maybe not that way.
It was actually a beautiful impassioned speech and he began to crumble in humility before my eyes. Crying and full of regret of a life less lived. It was a sad victory. The dream ends there, but I hope they all got out.
Note: While looking for a key image I googled 'sad men in suits' and find it pretty amazing that I am served up results for the opposite. All I find are a bunch of photos crafted to make corporate business life look dynamic and active and fun. This is the hypnosis in full effect.