Insomnia and I, we’re kindred spirits. But tonight was a particularly different night. I was jostled by a dream I was making every effort humanly possible to stay asleep long enough to see to the end. I wanted to make sure I wrote it down before I forgot all the details again.
It’s a rare recurring dream. I’ve only had it twice before. The first time was shortly after it all ended. The second time was years later. It starts at an exotic location I am completely unfamiliar with but I know it’s home. It’s quiet. It’s remote. I’ve gone there intentionally to be alone. I live in an all glass house with 360 degree views of this breathtaking place. All the glass doors are completely open. I’m sitting on the livingroom floor reading some papers. I’m suddenly distracted. I get up because I can sense something is changing. Like someone has reached the beach. I walk out of the house onto the grassy knoll by the sand’s edge. I can see you in the distance. To my surprise, I am not startled to see you. It’s as if I am always expecting to see you finally find me.
You’re walking slowly and pensively. You look up at the house. We see spot each other and there is a brief pause almost as if asking for permission to get closer. I’m expressionless but full of elation and expectation. I go back inside the house and sit on the livingroom floor again. Waiting. A bit later you walk up to the porch that wraps around the house and walk through the door directly in front of me. The sunset has rolled in behind you. I can’t see your face but I don’t have to. I know it’s you. We don’t say anything. Nothing needs to be said. There is quiet. There is stillness. There is peace. There is certainty. There is wholeness.
I close all the glass doors and look out for a minute realizing then that I can finally enjoy the scenery now without always looking for you in the background. You’re here…with me.
I wake up.