Slipping into the Flow.

I'm sitting in the front seat on the folded down "hump" in the middle as we descend this familiar passage of M129.   We all see it at the same time.  The water from Leach Lake and Mud Lake have flooded and are covering the road.

My father speeds up to give us enough momentum to cross to dry pavement.  My mom enjoins him -- Bill, don't go through that water!

It is just the three of us in the car.  My father smiles like a daredevil thrilled to have a challenge.

My mother's fear floods into me.  I want to echo her entreaty but the fear keeps me from saying anything.

I wake up terrified.

The dream returns over and over for more than a decade.

Then in my twenties, I am the driver.  The car is filled with friends or family and the location varies:  a remote and wooded patch of Wolf Lake Road in Muskegon, Michigan,  a massive sand dune in Australia, coastal highway in Hawaii and sometime in my late twenties it finally happens:

The car is washed off the road and into the water.

And it floats.  We're going to be fine after all.

The thing I value is the singularity, the persistence and the intensity of dreams throughout my life.

Whether they are full of fear or elation, puzzling or ecstasy or dread...their existence assures me of the vitality of imagination, the deep ways humans are drawn together, the value of holding space open for a vibrant interior life.  The images, places, feelings, stories and experiences of dreams remind me to be vulnerable, attentive, provisional and active.

#50thingsofvalue