Facing the Wild Waves

Photo by Silas Baisch on Unsplash

I started learning to negotiate the ocean when I could barely walk. Every summer, my parents rented a cottage for our family on the South Jersey shore for two weeks. We stayed in a little town called Avalon, which is also the name of a magical, mystical island in Arthurian legends and Celtic tales. For me, our stays at the shore were pure magic; the incessant sound and movement of the water entranced me. I learned how to stay on my little feet while the waves ebbed and flowed, first at the shallowest edge, then deeper and deeper. Once I could swim, I discovered that I had three choices when a wave was about to break over my head. I could ride it. I could duck all the way down, let it thunder over me, and surface. Or I could get knocked upside down and land on my butt with salt water up my nose and sand in my bathing suit.

Dreams speak to us using language and images familiar to us. A few weeks ago, I dreamed:

I apply for a $10,000 grant to write a screenplay, and my application is accepted. I am daunted; I don’t know how to write a screenplay! So I’ll have to get support and learn.

Another new beginning: we are moving into a community living situation, an apartment building by the water. The group is just getting started. I am on the balcony of our apartment with other women. A big body of water is right there next to the balcony. The water is deep blue. Sitting on a wooden log seat on the deck, watching the waves, I feel strong wind. It’s often windy here; it makes our new home chillier than I expected. But the sun is warm. The waves are huge breakers. Then I am in the water looking at a towering wave that is about to break over my head. It’s scary, but I know what to do: duck under, let the wave go over, and surface closer to shore. By doing this, I’ll miss the force of the wave. I’ve known how to do this since I was a child.

Spring is a time of new beginnings, and this dream has meaning for me personally. I am focusing more intensively on writing and getting support for doing so. My wife and I are considering downsizing and finding a new community to live in for the next phase of our lives.

As dreams often do, these dreams have potential collective meaning as well. The first dream shows us that we need to write a new “screenplay,” to create a new vision for our future. We don’t yet know how to do so. Though the prospect is daunting, we have the resources and confidence we need to learn.

The second dream reflects the fact that all of us—here in the United States and around the world—have to navigate the treacherous waters of the current US administration. We have to find our balance as we face an onslaught, a flood, a firehose of lawless lies, destruction, and deep harm. It’s not easy. The dream reminds me that I know how to avoid drowning, survive, and keep fighting.

I want to acknowledge the terrible truth that many people will not be able to avoid drowning in these waters and will not survive. I have more privilege and resources than most.

I encourage each of us to ask: what images and practices help me keep my head above water? What support do I have? How can we as a community remember our strength and resourcefulness and stay on our feet as we face the wild waves? How can we avoid harm to ourselves and others (if avoiding harm is possible for us)? What is our vision for the future we want to create? And as we do this hard work, how can we take in and be nourished by the beauty that surrounds us?