This small biographical fable stems from a dream in February 2019 and what emerged as I let myself feel into it.
I was going to go on a road trip out west with a much younger woman, a student like my dreamself. Then I realized, “I can’t go on a road trip with her. I have another woman I’m committed to. How could I have forgotten? I can’t possibly go with this other person.” I was filled with dread at having to tell her I couldn’t go. She was innocently looking forward to the trip, not suspecting a thing. I emptied out the contents of my locker. It was time for me to be leaving school it seems.
And I resolved to see the other woman. I’d almost forgotten who she was or where she lived, but I knew the way. She lived in a castle fortress near a mountain and I entered and found my way to the throne room inside where she was, high above me. Paintings behind her testified to her grandeur and power. She looked haughty and impervious but looking closer I could see that she was empty and lonely, that she needed me as much as I needed her. But I also knew that it was time for me to leave and leave for good. I knew she would be unhappy but that I couldn’t help that. I had to go. I looked at her a long while and we both understood what was happening. I was no longer her servant. It was time to go.
Outside the castle I started out on the long road. I didn’t know where it led but I had the sense it was the right one for me. I called the way “wandering” because I would have to be led by what I found, not by a road map laid down by others. Especially not the way laid down by the woman in the castle, which was her way. Or maybe she had learned it from others.
I felt light and unburdened, excited to be traveling on this unexplored road going I knew not where. I also felt exposed, much more vulnerable than I was used to. I wasn’t sure I would be able to find my way but I would find others who were on this road too, companions traveling blind, as I was. Together we could find our way. If I became lost I could come back to my surroundings, to this part of the road, and what needed to happen next would reveal itself. The sense of excitement and joy I felt to be on my own road told me that there was something worth doing. There was somewhere worth going even if I didn’t have words for it. What pleased me most was being here on the road, on the wandering path. Let the future emerge out of these steps, I thought. Let the future come as I walk.