Who Dad?!

Trapped

As the months passed, events on planet Earth became more alarming: droughts, fires, melting ice, immense storms, flooding, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, mass migrations, and threats of smaller wars becoming larger ones. Human behavior seemed more unpredictable and irrational: sometimes violent, but sometimes the exact opposite.

We stayed home except to gather what supplies we could. More regional versions of a food chain managed to provide enough for most in our country to survive. However, that was not true everywhere. Starvation was very real.

We worried how long the energy grid would hold up. What about governments and some semblance of law and order? The insurance industry had already collapsed. We were all on our own now when it came to replacing a home, a vehicle, or paying for healthcare. Still, many working in hospitals, clinics, and care facilities kept working, as if following a calling.

At first, riots and protests were commonplace around the globe, but then we stopped hearing much about them. Newscasters, strangely, even without pay, wanted to keep being seen reporting on what was what.

I just wanted to sleep. I spent more time inside house and head. I laughed at the thought that at least they were both paid for, but then remembered how neither were maintenance free.

Susan and I had less to say, but moved through our days with little conflict, grateful for each other.

After all the words were spoken

smiles and tears just might be

our truest companions . . .

and faith

our most trusted beacon

There were days when letting go of just one thing might allow me to rise above a relentless undertow. Yet there were things I could not unsee that weighed mightily on me.

The world out there . . .

Ever notice how letting go of something, or someone, doesn't always work? As if some invisible strings were still attached. In my life, there certainly have been some people who have inconveniently shown up where not wanted, including in dreams. Even now with the world as it was, I kept looking for the lesson, tried to accept, maybe even bless and release him or her. As if it mattered. I wondered if by dropping and letting go of everything else, I might finally discover something of myself.

My dreams remained so real and vivid, I didn't always want to wake. The other night I dreamt of a woman, Willow, I had met when I was working with the Forest Service. I had only spent a few minutes with her in the real world, but she must have made a deep impression.

In the dream, we had been together for several years. I knew her from the inside out. She was an instinctual being of many passions, a raw and wild creature who through lack of parenting and her own rebelliousness had managed to remain free of outside constraints. But, she was hampered by moods that came on like sudden storms.

Being with her felt like flying a kite on a windy day. I would hold on the best I could, keeping her connected to the ground, while she would lead me into moments and experiences that my own cautiousness would never have allowed.

When she actually became a kite in the dream, I woke up. But, it was stranger than that. I had the distinct impression that I was sharing this dream with someone else. To be honest, I had the sensation that it was her, Willow, the real person, somewhere else in the world. We were dreaming the same dream simultaneously!

Of course, I couldn't prove it. But, I was both fascinated and repelled by the possibility. It was as if the boundaries between separate selves were disintegrating, or that I was both eavesdropping on and participating in an alternate reality.

Awake, I mostly felt trapped as if waiting for some rescue. My thoughts would turn to random things like some event in Virginia years ago when so many people were stranded for 30 hours along a frozen interstate. I was fascinated then about their stories and what got them through it. Certainly, there was disbelief, frustration, and anger, but then came the stories of sharing water and food. There were also those with enough gas to keep their vehicles idling with heaters on who invited others in to the warmth.

Maybe that's what happens when we get a peek at how truly helpless and how dependent we are on each other. We start to let go of the illusion of separateness and connect.

That got me thinking of a snow story. It was on a post high school cross country trip with Lorry, a friend from childhood. A snow storm had pushed us to the side of the road. We were forced to wait for the storm to pass and the snow plows to clear the road.

We had some junk food, fluids, recreational substances, and sleeping bags for blankets. We were okay. I don't remember all we talked about because, well, we talked about everything. Sure, we wondered how long we could last, but I don't remember being particularly worried or stressed. Of course, we weren't surrounded and boxed in by miles of other vehicles, many abandoned. To me, being trapped like that seemed worse.

Nature can be terrible, but in our story, the snow stopped. We slept. Sometime in the morning, snow plows came. The day seemed extra bright and beautiful as we resumed our journey, almost alone on the freshly cleared road.

Our spirits were soaring with our release. We found an open gas station and restaurant and met others who also seemed just a bit more exuberant and friendly. Any ordeal survived can uplift.

Recently, there have been signs of things like that happening around the world. As the global economy ceased to function, local and regional cooperatives grew. Barter and local currencies replaced the coin of the realm. Community gardens and water catchment systems were popping up everywhere. One could almost believe everything would be okay.