I have a dream. I am driving a car that moves very slowly, but I cannot control it. It slides, as if on ice. But it is in a park. I see children playing soccer and families grilling. I fear for them, fear that this car I am driving will slide into them, drive over them.
Fortuitously, I see a bridge, it goes over the park and the play. I am able to direct the car to the bridge successfully. I find it very steep.
When I am at the cusp, I look down. The ground is so far away that my vision reels and my stomach rises to my throat. I have to draw back, at the cusp of this flimsy bridge.
I cannot look down, it’s too far, too dangerous. If I do, I may fall over, or worse, drive the car over, and it will bounce on the children and their parents having fun in oblivion. So I don’t look, and I don’t drive over. I stay up here on the rickety bridge of my reality, breathing deeply and waiting.
I don’t know what I am waiting for. Strength? Clarity? A good idea of how I can get down from here without hurting anybody.
I just stay up here on this bridge.
And, for now, that is okay.