High Hurdles

I dreamt last night. Well, that's deceptive. I dream every night. Last night, however, I remembered my dream.

I was in a race, probably one hundred and ten meter hurdles. I have never run the hurdles in my life, too short for them. I'd have to plant my hand on the hurdles and kick myself over, or do a slide beneath them and run a penalty, not to mention killing my hips against the track. Still, it was a race, and I was the only participant.

The first hurdle was your traditional hurdle, and I made it over just fine, slowing down only to make it over. The next one was higher, maybe at chest level, and this one I really did have to plant my hands on it and kick myself over. The third was probably around neck level, and this one I actually had to hoist myself up.

Each hurdle rose higher and higher. Soon they were multi level affairs and took longer and longer to get up, but I eventually hurdled each of them. Then the tenth and final hurdle. It was on a campus-like setting, the hurdle was a building that had been constructed around a tree, it rose several stories high, and the finish line was on top of that building. People were milling around the ground, and everyone was waiting for me to go up.

Didn't even hesitate. I started climbing.

It was pretty damned rough, I'm not a climber, and there weren't many hand holds. The higher I went, the harder it was to find purchase against the building or tree. About halfway up, I wrapped my arm around a branch loop and hung there, trying to figure out where my next handhold was. I had a few stories to go, but there was no way to go. And then, it started raining. Not a light drizzle, it was a serious downpour.

I could feel my arm slipping, losing my grip, and I had to cry down to the fire department waiting below for help, because I wasn't going to survive much longer. It felt so awful, I started crying out, because I'd come so close, and I couldn't go any further. That was when I woke up screaming.

Despite all that, I find some solace in this dream. Yeah, it was kind of crappy, and it would seem to imply that I feel like events in my life outside my control are keeping me from succeeding, but that's the wrong message to take from it (although that is a message, and I need to think about that).

First, I ran the race, even though I've never done hurdles, even though it was getting ridiculous in terms of height, and only gave in when death was imminent. I'm trying my best.

Second, I didn't hesitate at any point, except when I couldn't find a handhold on the last hurdle. I just dived right in and kept on going.

Third, and perhaps most important, I remembered this dream. I haven't remembered many dreams over the past few months, due to the insomnia, but this one I recalled right after I woke up, after my eighth hour of sleep that night. Were they all consecutive? No, but I was able to get eight hours of sleep over eleven hours. This definitely beats two hours of sleep a night. Is everything in my life resolved? No, I've hit that point where nothing will ever be resolved, but I think I've finally found a bit of peace in my life. Work is not as ridiculous as it once was. Well, it is, but I've learned that it's not as important, and I shouldn't obsess. If things work out at work, they work out. If not, I fix the mistake, pick up, move on.