I had this dream, where I was trying to get from one place to another, and it was a long ways. My friend who dropped me off at point A told me it would be easy, I doubted her, but OK, I didn’t have much choice. The journey from A to B was basically up a very steep hill, and traversing it, came in two parts:
I was inside a building and had to get from the ground floor to the top floor. But rather than stairs or an escalator, there was this pulley rope system. After a few tries, I managed to get myself about 3/4 of the way to the top, but inevitably, I’d “swing” back down to the ground. Eventually, some nice people on the top floor, saw my struggles and helped heave me the last bit, so that I finally landed on the top floor. Victory, at least partially.
I left that building and found myself in another building–part frat house, part luxury condo. There was a jam band in one area, smoke wafting, drinks flowing. I kept weaving my way through people trying to find the stairs that would lead me to point B. I had seen them from the outside of the house, but once I was inside, it became a labyrinth, each turn a wrong turn. I felt like I probably looked quite foolish to everyone, everyone else enjoying themselves, and I’m running in circles, obviously perplexed.
I’m fatigued and feel like giving up. On a balcony, I’m lean against a railing watching the hi-jinks in the pool. There are three younger women next to me. I take one more chance. I interrupt them and ask if they can help me find the stairs. One of them enthusiastically helps, without hesitation, of course, it’s this way. She walks me in the direction of a staircase that I had previously considered but talked myself out of. Of course it’s that one, I think.
I manage to get to point B. I don’t quite remember what I did there or why I needed to go there. I feel like the substance of the dream was the journey. My take away? I had to ask for help. I was only able to get so far on my own. And when help was provided or asked for, everyone helped out, kindly.
Side note: After point B, I went back to the house party. I was standing at the bar, drinking soda, (oddly, I actually had drank a soda at a bar that evening in real life) and Benedict Cumberbatch, dressed as Dr. Strange, but certainly acting as himself, comes over to say hello. Nothing illicit, but a genuine, heard you were a fan, hello, nice to meet you. And I was so pleased.
After the journey was a handsome reward. đ