The Recurring Dream

Each night I readily drift off into the world of dream, only to wake up several times as the drama of the unconscious events of sleep, shatter in silence, like broken glass. The meaning evades my confused and groggy mind, and finally escapes, like mist in my out-stretched hands. Sometimes, I can vaguely remember places, and people who morph together from the recent past. Often, I dream that I am hurrying down a old-time hospital corridor, wondering who I should minister to next, as cries of agony are echoed from dreary rooms that line the corridors. I can smell ether and rubbing alcohol, and although I am performing my tasks room to room, it seems inadequate in the surrounding misery. These are the anxiety producing nightmares that often occur during times of waking stress. I was a nurse for 25 years, and so it is not surprising that this world of pain would haunt my dreams. However, lately, I am reminded by the most profound of my recurring dreams. I am either in a small village, or on the edge of the ocean, and I can see the angry swell of the sea in the distance, like a pot of boiling soup. The people around me are unaware of any thing unusual, but I have a sense of foreboding. Suddenly, I can see the swell of a gigantic tidal wave coming in my direction, at least a hundred feet high. As the people are screaming around me, and there is a sense of panic and terror, somehow I remain calm and peaceful, and marvel at the approaching spectacle. In the dream, I feel safe, as I have no fear, but I know that once this wall of water passes, I must carry on and help those who survive. I can always feel the spray of water crash upon my head, but surprisingly the blow is no more painful than the whack of a feather pillow. As I hold my nose, and purposely duck into the  base of the wave, I am still calm, but very alert as I tumble about. Suddenly bodies are writhing and moaning on the beach, everyone left in the recede of the tide appears distraught or hurt. Calmly I go to each individual and place my hand on their head, and they are soothed and quietly walk away. Soon all is back to normal again. I wake up and wonder... if put to the test of a real disaster, would I have the strength and character to respond as I do in my dream. I know the answer, but quietly I hope that I never have to be put to the test.