The Year of Magical Dreaming

The Death Dream: A call to action

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I had the weirdest dream last night. I’ve been having a lot of anxious dreams lately, now that I think about it. And I’m not even an anxious person, so to have anxious dreams (outside of wedding planning) is really odd for me.

I had been sentenced to death.

For a speeding ticket, poorly defended.

I hadn’t taken it seriously, and now I was being made an example.

There were several of us with the same sentence, but for different crimes.

Here we were at the top of a tall fancy hotel, in our final hours, getting dressed in our finest, preparing our last words, just before taking the leap.

Yep, that was the worst part. We had to jump to our own death–triggering (like a mofo!) my biggest fear, heights!

There were hundreds of details that made it all seem so real, but to spell them out here in daylight would sound so silly.

The themes were heavy: white/class privilege, lottery of birth, ethics, selfishness, corruption, etc.

I never jumped, I was in the middle of my final plea when I woke up.

I was shaken this morning, confused, the dream stuck with me long after so many others generally slip away.

It quickly reminded me of this Angelina Jolie piece I had seen recently on FB: To Be of Use.

I was grateful this morning, feeling lucky and blessed to be alive and safe, but I was also changed.

That dream, as I see it, was a sobering reminder not to waste time, not to waste resources, and to be of use. Every damn day, be of use.

Or else, in our final hours, what else does it all really mean?


Like your life depends on it!

And, I believe–more clearly now than ever!–it does.