The rain water had collected at the bottom of the Interstate highway ramp. Ahead, the ramp rose to a steep incline and I could see the large, green sign indicating the connector to Van Wert, Ohio. I pushed down on the car’s accelerator and found myself on the other end of the water, rising with the road. To my left near the guard rail one thin, grey haired man looked distraught while another faceless individual berated him. “You should not do this,” was the lectures as the faceless person broke red dishes over the guard rail.
I awoke from my dream and lectured myself. Why would I drive though a flooded road? My car could stall. I should know better. Why would I have done so in my dream? Yet, in my dream, I made it. Bladder bursting, I stumbled out of bed thoughts still racing.
I found myself in nice a new house with a beautiful interior. Walking in, the windows on the back of the house looked over a pool. Many people were in the pool, splashing, partying. I walked to the back to meet everyone. No bladder issue there. The dead of winter was getting to me, I surmised, and fell back into a deep sleep.
The fact that I was dreaming of water, however, brought back a theme of past dreams. Years ago, I had dreamt repeatedly of a great wave. The timing of the dreams preceded the destructive tsunamis so they could not have been attributed to world events I had been following. The dreams were just simply of a great wave that stopped just before the reaching my front door. The enormous wave was never near enough to harm me yet, through my window, I could see the water’s edge at my front lawn. In my conscious existence, my job at the time was in jeopardy – again. My industry was on a slow spiral and the local economy seemed unpredictable. I worried about my company moving half way around the world, of being unemployed, of the future. The dreams vex me while seemed to be telling me that something was coming but I would be safe. Months went by and I found myself safely employed at a different firm while others I knew were out of work. The dreams of the wave not return.
These recent water dreams made me wonder. The water seemed to return in a different form. Another job scare was beginning for everyone in my company. Days after my dream, I came across the word “severance” carelessly scrawled in, of all things, red ink across the back of my boss’s notes I was given to copy. Could my dreams once again be telling me something? Perhaps forging ahead. Take the high road. Perhaps don’t think about the issue in front of me. All of it seems unavoidable much like the water over the road when I really need to get somewhere.
Maybe a more deeper, more mysterious, issue lingers in my dream world. I don’t even live in Ohio. Maybe I just need a vacation, or a summer vacation house with a pool. In Van Wert.