I am a vivid dreamer. In fact, I wish that I had the diligence to record all of my dreams because I know they’d tell me a good deal about myself. A few years ago, I did have this diligence and I’m now able to look back and see a written record of transformation in my dreams—a transformation of real life hurt and anger to one of forgiveness and being okay. It’s amazing how much work can happen in our dreams…which may be why I often wake up just as tired as I was before I lay down!
I had a weird dream the other night that I keep thinking about. It’s hard to put the images into words but I’m going to try:
I was either at a conference or at work when I went outside and noticed that the tide was really high. As I flew away for a quick break, I realized that everything around my building had been destroyed—including my building—only, the floors that were below the ground were just fine—therefore my office or hotel room or dorm room (it was all of these things at one point) was fine, too. Because of the mass devastation that the waves had caused, everyone was evacuating the building—for good. They were never going to be allowed back. I refused to evacuate, however, because I didn’t have my phone or wallet or computer or anything else that I needed to survive.
I knew that my space was safe—I had just come from it, after all, and didn’t even know the rest of the building had collapsed until I took a flying break—so I didn’t see why I couldn’t go back and grab what I needed. I shared this predicament with Boss. She agreed and told me to follow her. She then led me to an underground mall where National WMU President, Debby Akerman, and National WMU Executive Director-Treasurer, Wanda Lee, were eating Chinese food. Boss quietly interrupted them and asked Debby for the key to our rooms and explained that we needed to get back to them to get something. Debby gave us the keys and we returned to our space—carefully avoiding the “Caution: Do Not Enter” tape.
When we got to our space, we found a couple of our other coworkers—or friends from college or my school teaching days—I think the people changed. Quietly, we each began to pack up our stuff, hoping that we wouldn’t get caught. At first, I packed haphazardly—just putting stuff into my bag. But then I realized that I had been granted more time than originally planned, so I began to unpack and repack—this time being more careful.
I knew that I could only take what I could fit into my Vera Bradley duffel bag, so I carefully considered what items were truly important. I asked myself if clothes were things that I often wore—if they would be difficult to replace if left behind (like the pair of jeans that just can’t be replaced)—if I could buy them again easily—if I never really wore them. I asked myself about books and papers and such…and I had to make sure that this one striped shirt was with me because it was really my favorite pillow case that a friend had given me.
As I sat there and packed my VB bag, I hoped that the guards wouldn’t come and throw me out before I was finished. I also tried to figure out the best way to say goodbye to everything left behind and to load my VB bag into my car…but then the dream shifted to me flying away, over a school yard, trying to direct myself to a safe landing but losing control and becoming a fugitive weapon and…then I woke up.
Jenny used to tell me that dreams were either fear or wish dreams. And I think most of the time that’s true. But I’m not so sure what this dream was…except for weird…and one that’s made me think about what I’d pack in my VB duffel bag if I had to weed down everything I own into just one bag.
What about you? What do you think you’d take from your office, hotel, dorm, class, or bed room if the building above you crashed? Or…what weird dream have you had lately?
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