I was dreaming that I had gone to some weird resort that required ladders to get out of the rooms, which were really caves. Someone had stolen my ladder and I was stuck. In the cave. I complained to a man who I presumed was management and he told me to get over it. I said “You can’t strand me here in this damp, dark place. It’s wrong!” He laughed.
I was still angry as I struggled to the surface of sleep and realized it was another anxiety dream. Either I’m searching for something and it is nowhere to be found, or I’m trapped and no one will help me escape. Variations on a theme of anxious. I went back to sleep, but found myself still trapped in the cave.
I got up, went to the bathroom … and the sun was rising.
A few minutes later, it shone brightly on the fresh powder of snow that had fallen overnight.
I keep a camera in the bedroom for just such emergencies. Ah, the joy of ambivalence. If I stopped to take pictures, would I be able to go back to sleep? If I went back to bed without getting pictures, I would surely regret it.
I took pictures. I’m glad I did.
This is a tense, anxious, frightening time for many of us and it’s getting to me. But, it isn’t going to go away anytime soon. We have a long hard road to travel. I cannot fight every battle, every day. I’ll collapse and quite probably, never sleep again. It’s good to remember the world is beautiful and the sun continues to rise. It was certainly glorious this morning.
This is dawn and sunrise on the first day of February during the strangest year through which I’ve yet lived. So far, so good.