The end of a dream
I awoke last night about 3 a.m.
I wasn't wakened by thunder or the barking of the neighbors' dog. It wasn't the kids slamming the bathroom door in the middle of the night nor the sudden, jolting awareness that sometimes sits me bolt upright wondering if someone is breaking into the house.
This was something entirely different and I'm not sure I've ever experienced this.
I was dreaming a dream that seems to have gone on for years. The actual scenes are lost to the night, but this was one of those dreams where we're struggling against all odds to get somewhere we can be safe. Jagged mountains, dark tunnels, and hideous creatures beset us from all sides. The type of dream I'm sure every adult with kids, a mortgage, and a conscience has. It doesn't take a psychiatrist to figure out what the imagery means.
And then, it changed.
We came upon a place where there was plenty of water, a place to build a home, safe from the perilous world and the travails of the journey. We sat on the edge of a boulder, watching the sun set over the distant lake, knowing that we had found our peaceful valley.
And that's when I woke up. Unlike most mornings, where the smell of coffee permeates the air and the kids are already starting a days worth of arguments, this was so different. I just woke up. Not bolt upright, but awareness with stunning clarity. It was like having watched your favorite TV show for years, for the final episode to be where everything worked out in the end the way you wanted it to, with no ironic twists.
I stayed awake for another 30 minutes, trying to figure out what it meant. When I woke up this morning, I remembered everything. So what does it mean? I'm afraid I can't draw any parallels to our lives, as if we finally are at a place where nothing can go wrong. We still have a mortgage, my job could go away at any moment, and health problems are always an issue. Life is full of turmoil.
But there is always hope…