I am sitting by the shore of an infinite ocean. The sun shines down on the golden sand where children splash in the shallow, gentle waves, parents watching their antics. Young men play with frisbees, pretty girls sun themselves on brightly colored blankets. Suddenly, without warning, I am engulfed by a terrifying tsunami. Frigid waters suck me under and pull me out to sea. It is dark, I am tossed and turned upside down, I don’t know which way is up. Holding my breath till I think I’ll burst, I fight my way toward the surface and the faint light above. I break through gasping for air, swimming against the inexorable current as I struggle to reach the beach. Just as suddenly, the wave crests and flings me back onto the sand. I lie there breathless, dripping wet and shivering. But the sun is still shining, people are still playing, laughing, loving. This tidal wave of sorrow was just for me. This is not a dream. I experience it every day. But somehow, each time, I make it back to shore.
Another day, another Shabbat, another week.
Originally posted January 17, 2014
In dreams, waves, especially tsunamis, are about emotion.
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