Once upon a time I dreamt that I was standing on the shoreline of a vast body of water. It wasn’t an ocean or a lake. But endless blue waters and no natural features to interrupt the skyline. The only thing before me as I stood on the sandy beach was an old wooden dock that hovered a few feet above the waterline. And the only sound, water, that gently lapped at the bottom of the old wooden planks.
This dock continued forward long and straight until at random it would turn at right angles to the left or right but generally extending far into the horizon. I couldn’t see an end from where I stood. In this dream, there was no one else around, nothing else to capture my interest, so I decided to explore and see how far the dock would take me.
As I moved at a casual pace I looked down into the waters and realized there was movement beneath the surface. But it wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t fish or seaweed or the bottom of a lake, but through the haze and ripples I saw a bustling marketplace. Strange creatures were hurrying to and fro conducting commerce and trade. I stared closer completely shocked at what I was seeing. You see, this wasn’t just any lake. The waters hid an entire magical world beneath the surface. Before long, my curiosity drove me to taking a leap of faith. I sat down on the dock, removed my shoes and socks, and dangled my feet into the water. I took a deep breath and pushed, leaving the safety of the dock. With a giant splash I plunged into the icy water. I fell into the depths and it actually felt normal until suddenly, I felt cool air on my legs and a disorienting strong pull of gravity. I plummeted fast into this colorful world of alien life. Disoriented, I looked up and noticed that a few of the locals paused to stare at my soaking wet human form. Then, without any concern for who I was or why I was there, they continued haggling and carrying on with their business.
I stood up, dripping, and looked around. Eclectic shops lined this broad dirt road, and the locals with their vaguely oceanic forms walked or cycled by with hurried expressions on their faces. I looked upwards from where I had just fallen and all I could see was darkness as if it was night. The familiar glimmer of light through water mirrored a starry night sky. The ceiling of this magical world was a true ocean. Unfamiliar fish and bioluminescent creatures swam past peacefully without so much of a drip falling onto the space around me. Like the tourist I was, I stared for quite a while before noticing a strange pull towards a shadowy shop in my periphery.
The shop’s walls were lined with vessels and bottles of all shapes, sizes and colors. A merchant stood helping another customer while I perused the shelves. I was looking for something, but what exactly, I didn’t know. I just knew that the bottles held secrets, memories, feelings, spells, and concoctions I could only dream about. I was looking for one in particular. A tall black vessel with unfinished metallic charms tied around the bottle’s long neck. After a few moments, I saw it high on a shelf, out of my reach. And yet, I knew I couldn’t afford it anyway, for I had no currency in this world. I walked out of the shop, taking note to come back for it. But, shortly after this experience, the dream came to an end.
Water is often a transitory medium. It’s interesting that I had to move through a barrier to get access to this world and that it required a leap of faith to do so. Through the whole dream, I never felt fear. I felt excitement, curiosity, and wonder. Furthermore, several questions stick with me. Why did I feel called to this specific shop? Why did I know what to look for? Why was it out of my reach both physically and financially? What was hidden in this opaque bottle?
It’s interesting what dreams hold. I had this dream years ago. It’s as if my subconscious knew that I had secrets and memories but they were kept safely corked under the purview of a gatekeeper merchant. And while in my dreams, I could dip in and out of this magical world, I wasn’t ready to access these things. I’ve learned to trust many of my dreams as extremely apt metaphors for situations in the present or yet to come or even direct reflections of buried memories.
So, last night, as I fell asleep I started to remember something strange. I started to become acutely aware that I actually can’t remember a period of time. One of my longest friends tells me I had a graduation party after I graduated high school and yet I have no memory of this. I barely remember graduation day. I think the only reason I remember at all is because there’s a few photos. But I don’t remember anything after the event. I don’t remember if anyone came to see me graduate other than my parents. I don’t remember if my brothers were there. I think some of my extended family may have come, but I can’t remember. I don’t even remember going home. I don’t remember that entire summer before starting my first year at KU. It’s as if I have a memory of the day I graduated, a memory of getting a scholarship letter to KU, and then everything skips forward to me living at the dorms. Why don’t I remember any of that summer? Why do I get a pit of fear in my stomach when I try to think about it? Why did I start to remember this last night – what is my mind trying to tell me?
And why can’t I feel anything about my friends? Why do I feel my brain wiping the slate clean and pushing me forward? I don’t even know who I am. I just feel like a shell of a person with someone else’s memories. And yet, that’s perfectly fine. Am I even a real person right now or a shadow of myself? Maybe what returned from the underwater marketplace wasn’t me, but a watery mirage of myself and the core of who I am is stuck, fragmented, and poured into various colorful bottles kept hidden away by the merchant’s watchful eye.
Maybe I need to go back there. Maybe I need to walk into that shop and rip into the shelves smashing bottles and revealing truths until I drive myself mad. There is a part of me that wants to; it is impatient and wants to uncork everything all at once – but we can’t do that can we? Because to do so would be to destroy ourselves.
So I’ll continue to bide my time. I’ll earn my keep until I can purchase those memories one at a time, slowly, methodically. And I’ll keep a journal along the way so I can remember my friends and those who helped me. And after months or years, when I finally come back to shore, I hope I return my whole self and not just an empty shell.