I dreamed last night that I had to cross a bayou in a kayak. The moment I launched from shore, I saw the water was full of alligators lurking just under the surface. To make things worse, the kayak hit one, flipped, and dumped me into the midst of them.
The feeling I had in my sleep was not unlike a feeling I’ve had at different points in my life, when I realized I was surrounded by people who only wanted to do me harm. So I woke with a burning question: what is my subconscious mind trying to tell me? Am I surrounded by alligators in the real world, just as I was in my dream? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. After all, sometimes my dreams are more than just dreams. They often serve to warn me of trouble afoot, my mind’s way of communicating to me observations it has made without my direct awareness of them.
In those fleeting seconds between sleeping and waking, I formed a conscious thought about surviving the alligators: walk on their backs--if you move quickly enough, you can use them as steps and reach safety before they realize what you’re doing.
I woke before I could test my theory. I don’t know if I could have made it to the shore by walking on their backs or not. But I know me, and in a moment of desperation, that may well be something I’d try.
In thirty-seven days, I’m taking a huge leap of faith clear across the Atlantic. Will I be walking on the backs of alligators to get there? This move is the Hail Mary of mid-life for me; I’ve been disabled by incurable disease, crippled by poverty, and betrayed by family in ways that feel exactly like somebody torpedoed my kayak into a river of snapping jaws. Even though I know how to swim, more danger lies in the water than just drowning. I’ve had to improvise a solution that seems so outlandish, so extreme, so bizarre that no sane person would attempt it.
But what is the alternative? Flail around in the water until I actually do get eaten?
I’m not sure who the alligators in my dream actually represent. Given my track record, it could be anyone. All I know is that I’m not the least bit inclined to just start treading water and hope for the best.
I didn’t get much done over the past couple of days. I gave myself a break, since I have such a busy week coming up. Tomorrow I have to have dogs at the vet by eight-thirty a.m. I have a doctor’s appointment of my own just after noon. The following day I have to pick those dogs up from the vet and take four more for health certificates. On Friday I have to drive the four with health certificates six hours up the road to rescue. I have another rescue trip going the opposite direction a few days later. Once I get back home, I’m sure I’ll be stunned at the silence. I will have fewer animals in my house at that point than I’ve had since 2013. I won’t know what to do with myself.
Things are definitely falling into place for all of these major life changes. Alligators be damned--I am very much looking foward to seeing what awaits me on the other side of the pond.