The universal quandry.
Waking up from a sound sleep, not being certain whether you just had a dream -- or whether you had an indescribable adventure. On the border between the world where everything is possible and the world where dreams die a silent death. That half-wakeful state where you want to return to the other side to get your visa stamped one more time.
I had one of those dreams this past week.
You all know how I have started to lust after the Hobie Mirage Adventure Island kayak. In the same sense that every six-year old wants a pony. I know that I will probably have to settle for a new mountain bike. But I have dreams of owning that kayak.
Or, more accurately had a dream. I think it was Friday night. Perhaps Saturday. I have been sleeping on the couch to let Jiggs's hips have some relief from climbing the stairs up to my bedroom. The bedroom where I maintain a comfortable bed -- far more comfortable than the lumpy leather couch in the library.
Lumpy though it is, I must have fallen into an adequately deep sleep that I had a dream -- starring me. Me in The Kayak. Gliding over the mirror-like waters of the bay in front of the Melaque house.
Everything was there. The breeze off of the sea. A full sail. The sweep of the bay. And me -- gliding along.
Then the breeze shifted to a string wind blowing from the land -- out to sea. And so was I. Tack. Pedal. Paddle. Nothing stopped the inexorable push toward the unlanded horizon.
As I swept past the rocks on the west end of the bay, I could almost -- almost -- reach out to grab one. But not quite. And soon the rocks, the beach, the bay were gone.
But I continued to glide across the water. Unimpeded by any worries. Any cares. Any clocks.
Now, some may interpret the dream as an ill omen. Buying the kayak means certain disaster. The Freudians would want to know if I was smoking a cigar.
As for me, the dream means one thing. I am ready to experience a free life in Mexico. Not a perfect one. But I am going to enjoy the opportunity to be as free as that kayak lost at sea.
