Tsunami

Haven't had a dream in a while -- not one that I can remember when I wake up, anyway. I think the last one was the night I kept dreaming about my fears of running the half-marathon in October. Turns out that was a premonition, since I subsequently fractured my hip three weeks before the race and had to sit it out.

Early this morning, I had a dream...

I was at the beach with my three children. I had a sense my husband was there, too, but I don't know where. During the day, I'd dabbled in the ocean with the kids, but didn't really let myself go. I watched them play in the water and on the sand, and I'd get in waist-deep to cool off occasionally, but I stayed on the shore mostly. Finally, late in the afternoon, my mind felt free. I unwrapped the striped towel from around my body, revealing the bikini I'd decided to wear -- the first one I'd owned in 15, 20 years. I grabbed my son and we ran all-out into the water, laughing and splashing and not looking back.

After running and swimming straight out for a while, we finally stopped and looked back. Because the water was shallow, we were able to get really far from shore and still the water was only chest-high on me. My son could still touch ground, too, but the water was up to his chin. We saw my dot-daughters happily playing in the sand.

I just felt free, felt happy. I was with my son, and we had no worries. We were just enjoying one another. We were "in the moment" together. We were having fun!

As I turned my gaze from shore and back out toward the expanse of ocean, it took a moment for the image to register in my mind. The world changed as what we saw was a solid wall, straight ahead but extending up and down the coastline, of water.

It was like a movie at first. Something to watch. See what happens next.

But then I realized this was real. I felt the pull of the ocean at my feet.

We couldn't run, we couldn't hide, we couldn't do anything to escape what was headed toward us. We just had to manage the situation as best as we could, using as much logic and reason as we could muster. Rather, I had to manage the situation. I'm the parent. My son must be terrified.

I held on tight to my son as we braced for the tsunami to hit. I told him to take a big breath of air just before the water hit us, then swim upward as soon as possible. Upward. How were we going to figure out what that was? I knew we'd be stuck in a raging swirl of water. But what else could we hope to do? Yes, hope. We had to hope we'd find a way to survive.

The tsunami washed over us as though we weren't even there. Inconsequential little dots in the ocean, we were. I was amazed to find my feet touching sand. Thankfully, that was the clue I needed! With the ocean floor at my feet and my arm around my son's waist, I pushed off and propelled us to the surface. Miraculously, we made it. Gasping for air, we turned and looked at one another. We'd made it through the tsunami.

But then I felt the pull again. This time outward toward the ocean. Of course! It quickly dawned on me that the tsunami would retreat, and here we still were, in its path.

Amid the churn, I told my son to grab another big breath of air. I hoped we could fare as well the second time around, but I knew the odds were against our repeated survival.

A second miracle occurred, as we again made it to the surface as the ocean retreated. We were farther from shore, we were scared, and we were exhausted, but we were alive! We would just swim and swim and swim until we made it back to shore.

To shore... to the girls. The girls! Amid deep despair, I realized they'd probably not survived the tsunami as it hit their playground in the sand. Who was there to protect them? Did they survive? If so, where were they? Did my husband somehow manage to get to them, from where he had been? The tears began to flow as I frantically started swimming to shore.

And then I woke up.

What does it mean? I know my subconscious mind is trying to communicate with my conscious mind. It's been haunting me all morning.

Yet, the meaning is not that complex. Unlike the sudden nature of the physical tsunami in my dream, I know when my figurative tsunami is going to hit: Wednesday morning at 7:50. I cannot avoid it. It will happen. It will hit hard, but I will persevere, survive, and succeed! Still, I fear it. I do not thrive on conflict.

I had finally straightened out some melee in my mind. I had found confidence in a new path, and the confidence gave me freedom! But the road to freedom is rarely smooth and straight. The bumps and curves -- and, yes, tsunamis -- give the road character and meaning.

My husband was not physically present in the dream because I'm the one who has to manage this tsunami on Wednesday. Yes, he'll be there. Yes, he's helped me to see a clear solution. But I'm the one who has coordinated and managed it all. I feel the weight upon my shoulders.

My son was with me because he's the one who is "safe." In the dream, it might not appear so. He had to weather the tsunami with me. But he was right there at my side. My arm was around him. I could talk to him, hold him. I knew he'd ended up OK.

But my daughters... I don't know about them. Did the tsunami take them out to sea? Or did they find their hidden strength and persevere? Did someone else come to their rescue?

Today I have been blessed with a premonition. It gave me a jolt this morning, but perhaps a jolt is what I needed. With my own personal advance warning system, I hope to get my daughters to safety before the tsunami hits.

On Wednesday, we will survive this tsunami. All of us.