The water looks cold and dark; the surface is choppy.
A man in a motorized boat approaches. At first it appears he may help her, but it soon
becomes clear he is after her. He points the boat at her and slowly moves in, almost like she is prey.
I think she senses this. Somehow, she manages
to pull herself up onto the bow and clings to the windshield, behind which
he sits.
There is an intense exchange between them.
She seems almost crazy in her intensity. She tells him he does not want to be
near her, the implication seeming to be that she is dangerous and
unpredictable. I cannot see her
face, because now, like her, I am facing the man, but I sense that as she
speaks, her eyes are wide and a bit wild; she wants him to understand that she will not be easy prey. She acts like a woman on the edge; there
is something courageous in meeting head-on this man who might do her harm.
He remains seated, relaxed, behind the windshield and
steering wheel. Only his eyes meet her intensity. “Oh yes, I do want to be near you,” he
says, I cannot predict his intentions, but I am anxious for her.
My vantage point in the dream allows me to do a quick visual scan of
the boat to see if there is room for him to pull her all the way aboard and
hurt her. There is relatively
little surface space, but what there is of it is white and pristine.
There is a charge between them that is not entirely defined. I wake without knowing what becomes of either of them.
The evening after the dream, I tell my husband about it over dinner. He asks what Diane Lane represents for me. He says maybe the water
represents the Unknown.
Early the next morning, I turn on
the TV and out of habit, plug in a channel. “A Perfect Storm” is on and is well
underway. In the second scene I see, there is Diane Lane. Her character, Christina, is going off on Bob Brown, owner of the doomed
boat that carries her beloved, Bobby. She is real and raw, ferocious and impassioned; she has to be pulled off him. She's dreamed this storm and knows how dangerous it is, how dangerous Bob Brown may be. I am struck by Christina's similarity to the Diane Lane of my dream.
Later, after the Andrea Gale has been hit by
the wave that will sink it, Bobby says to the Captain, “We made the right call,
Captain. We had to try, right?” That's right, I think. We have to try, even when the stakes are high and the outcome is uncertain.
The Captain drowns. Bobby makes it to the
surface of the water, where he talks to Christina through space and time. He tells her has always loved and will always love her. He tells her there are
no goodbyes, only love.
At the end of the film,
Christina recounts a recurring dream
in which Bobby is coming toward her. She asks him where he’s been but he won’t
say. He tells her that he’s always loved her, that he’ll love her forever; that
there are no goodbyes, only love. And then he’s gone. "But he’s always happy
when he goes," Christina says, "so I know that wherever he is, he’s okay. Absolutely
okay."
Later that morning, I ask the cards what I will need on the next leg of my
journey. I draw The Moon. A
woman, alone in the sea, under the light of the moon. To her right is a
sailboat without a sail. She has stepped into the Unknown. She must trust her inner voice, her intuition. She must pay close attention to her dreams. If she
does, everything will be okay.
Very early the next day, I log into
Etsy and on the home page is a quote from the day's featured shop owner, A. Lawlar: "Take
a risk on your talents and place a bet on yourself: you and your future are worth
it." Intrigued, I click to the full interview with her, in which she is asked:
What would be the title of your memoir?
She answers: Risk
The Ocean.
My dream. The movie. The Moon card. The Etsy interview. These all weave together to offer me the following guidance:
Trust in your intuition, your dreams and love. Whatever is risked by entering the Unknown, these things will never let you down.
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