Friday, April 20, 2012

There are those who dream all the time, and then folks like me who rarely dream at all.  And whenever I do dream, those are rather disjointed and oft downright disturbing. Not like in a Freddy Krueger manner, but where things happen that I’d rather not.  Here’s an example.

A couple of nights back, I had one of my disturbing dreams.  It began simply enough with me driving in a remote area on a mountain road, the sheer fall to my right towering a mighty 1000 feet.  Strange thing was that there was no guardrail. 

There I was, cruising along, driving safe, when I went to turn a corner.  Though I wasn’t speeding and the road wasn’t slick, the back right tire skidded out from under me, causing me to fishtail.  The result?  That tire slipped off the edge of the road.  There was a momentary panic as I realized the vehicle and I were being pulled off the cliff—that 1000-foot drop flashing before my mind’s eye.

My car pulled to the right and somewhat backwards.  First one tire, then another and finally the whole vehicle lost its footing with the ground.  Nothing but empty space under my tires remained.  From there, I would’ve thought things would’ve sped up or that I would’ve panicked more.  But that wasn’t the case. Instead, a distinct calm washed over me as things slowed to an incredibly reliable pace, one where time and space merged together into a suspended state of disbelief, understanding and ultimate acceptance.

As oft happens in dreams, reality doesn’t always mirror the events of the dream and so, though I’d been pulled backwards off the mountainside, I suddenly found my car facing forward with nothing but empty sky before me and a valley of threatening jagged rocks laying beneath.  I watch those rocks as they came closer.  My car never flipped over or did a nose-dive.  Just sort of floated there as gravity did its thing. 

It felt odd, like I’d been lying on a bed then had someone pull the mattress out from under me.  There I was in suspended animation, going down…down…down…my fate looming closer, yet my mind and emotions stayed calm.  No, they were more than calm.  They were…intrigued. 

Watching those rocks come closer, I wondered what it would feel like upon impact.  Would I feel incredible pain as my vehicle crumpled against the rocks like a discarded tin can?  Would I black out?  Would I even remember what happened or would the impact be so sudden and intense as to wipe any memory of it from my mind as the life slipped from me?

I didn’t have long to wait to have my questions answered.  Or rather, it seemed I had too long.  Like somehow time should have been going at a more normal pace but had decided to slow so as to have me record each and every second of what was happening in the recesses of my brain.  Empty space between my car and the jagged rocks slimmed to just a sliver.  Then came the impact, which felt like a culmination of every accident I’d ever been in.  That realization had only a moment to flit through my brain before I ceased to recognize coherent thoughts.

It was then I wondered if I’d died.  Even in the midst of my dream, I recalled how if a person dies in their dream, it’s said they’ll actually die.  I hoped that wasn’t the case.  Next thing I knew, my eyes opened.  My car, battered and broken, just as I was, stood upon what remained of its four blown tires.  In a haze, I heard a voice calling to me, asking if I was okay.  And from there, I realized I hadn’t died in my dream.  That I’d somehow managed to survive to tell the tale of my incredible fall.  And for that, I was grateful….