I am not a dreamer. I don’t usually sit and retell the times when I had a dream about… My dreams are usually here for a flash, an instant, and glimpse into one scene, one picture, one feeling and then they are gone. I think I have had 6 dreams in my whole life that I remember the details (not that they made sense) and could retell them past the morning after. They have been incredibly strong their message to my soul and they carry over into my feelings even towards people in my real life. Even as I am pondering this, I know this is one dream, I really should write down. Because today while camping, I awoke with the most compelling dream I have had in a great great while.
What is it about dreams that you can never seem to remember the beginning? I am trying to grasp the beginning of my dream this morning and it is just not there, but the final scene is. I am walking through a small town market, like a Saturday market style place only smaller. I am walking with none other than Skeet Ulrich (yes I have seen my fair share of Jericho and the character they made him in that television show will forever be seared into my memory; but its been at least a year or so since my last sneak peek.) Regardless, it is him and we are a THING, walking hand in hand, laughing at things, basking in the sunshine, and absorbing what seems like magic in the air. When I pause for a moment and ask the all too important question I do in most of my dreams… How did I get here?
It is in this moment, that I start to feel the sense of magic and fantasy as I look at the scenery behind me and realize I didn’t just show up here or walk there or arrive in a car, but I actually just appeared in this place-the town, the classroom, the market. This whole place was a world set apart from the reality that I was from (that the dreaming me was from). And as my dream-self was looking around past the tables and the trinkets of the market I began to see the scene unfold as if from Prince Caspian or Lord of the Rings and in this magical place my dream-self was not supposed to be there. I realize that I had done something… something I was not supposed to do.
I had made a wish. I had wished to be with him. My dream-self had been in that dreaded reality that was full of responsibilities, facts, jobs, work, pain, and loneliness. And all I had wanted was to be in this amazing joyful carefree place with him again. Living in that place where my laughs were heard by someone who cared ever so deeply for me and my heart. I wanted to remove the feel of the real world and be amidst the magic and wonder that this other mysterious place always seemed to offer. So I wished to be with him again, be where he was, feel his touch again, and feel the smile on my face as I look at him. And in those simple thoughts and maybe even the smallest of whispers I wished it. And with that simplest of wants, smallest of wishes… I appeared there in that place.
I began this walk in a classroom, wandering the rows of desks, being reminded of pleasant times teaching, with laughing children, and positive learning. I seemed to glide across the floor with each step, but not out-of-place from everyone else in this place. I was not a foreigner here in this place, the people knew me, accepted me, and even welcomed my presence, unaware that I was NOT supposed to be there. They did not know it was me that was wrong, but there was something wrong in this place. And I knew as much as I desired to be here I was the one out-of-place.
To be continued…