From Where No One Has Returned Before

י' באייר תשס"ז

I dreamt.

Within a portion of the dream, I was out on the deep dark sea located in a very hidden enchanted place, floating on something very flat like a raft. Even though I knew I was deep out at sea, mystical things were present like might be found in a cave graveyard of sunken treasure ships. I was alone, yet not alone.

The presence with me spoke in my mind, telling me that I was in a place from which no one who had ever come here had ever returned. No one had ever returned from this place. But, I wasn't afraid. I knew I was going to return. I was made to return. It was beyond the realm of the possible that I would be like just another sunken treasure ship. I would eventually move on from here.

I was completely fearless. The place was darkly enchanting, even peaceful. I wasn't afraid of the dark creatures who haunted the smooth still waters beneath the surface upon which I floated.

Renewed by the mystic peacefulness like an embrace which shuts out sensory overstimulation (an autistic would understand), I had to move on. There were still things to do. The dream moved on to another place, back to civilization, and to another scene in another story.

I woke up. With a deep case of sleep inertia. Nevertheless, I woke up and physically returned to normal awareness within an hour or so.

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