Which Way

By now, I am quite used to my outlandish dreams. They have been an integral part of me since I was a child. The last ten years have added a new scenario to the consistently complex scripts my night dreams treat me to. Last night was no exception. The scenario is one of bewilderment at not being able to go home  because I cannot find my way. Last night I was at an enormously huge amusement park somewhere in the US, it looked very much like Los Angeles. The amusement park had hundreds and hundreds of large reenactments of fairy tales, enhanced by slides, Ferris wheels, merry go rounds, trains, castles, villages, boat rides, roller coasters. The crowds were enormous. I remember looking out at them, and it looked like a huge colony of ants milling around madly. The roar was deafening and had an unease to it against the backdrop of a tangle of freeways in the hazy background. In the dream I was waiting for my brother, who was going to meet me at the entrance of a water slide with his son and daughter. My father was there at one point, but he vanished in the crowd and I was unable to find him again. I tried to call my husband but I could not put in a number that worked. My brother never showed up, and I was wandering around the mad fairgrounds by myself. I remember at first being intrigued by all the different displays. They were beautiful. The details were impressive, some artists had put a lot of thought in this mega play land. Then I got hungry, and could not find any money in my wallet. The heat was oppressive, and I was thirsty. I talked to a kind ride operator and she bought me a burger and a drink. She explained how to find the exit, but I became overwhelmed by the elaborate directions. A sense of panic set in. I looked around me and saw nothing but a screaming crowd that seemed to have lost its mind in a sugar and heat induced madness. I felt like I was trapped in a Hieronymus Bosch painting. As intriguing as the feeling was, the nauseating oppression of being lost with seemingly no way out quickly took over. I found some shade and ended up talking to a small group of circus artists, little people, who showed me respect and kindness. They reassured me that with enough time, I would find a way out. I realized that even if I did, I still needed to get home. They said I was welcome to stay with them, there was always room for one more lost soul. I woke up before knowing if I ever heard back from my husband, or if he ever found me or how I liked living at the traveling circus with my new found friends. The question " which way? "  became a spell in the dream that emotionally left me feeling shaken when I woke up. It sure was good to see my sleeping husband next to me, and to hear the quiet snoring of my son through this bedroom door as I walked around my cozy home with the snoozing cat outside in the morning sun and the chirping birds. I walked around the peaceful backyard with its hundreds of flowers, its pool and greenhouse. Our dog Yara walked happily beside me, barking at some passerby. I made it home, after all. I felt a great sense of relief, and of gratitude. The ghosts had not made it across the boundary between the dream world and the reality of day.