I had a series of linked dreams last night involving transformative magic. There was a lot of mind-of-Jay metaphor with old pickup trucks in the woods, and open bags of Oreos, as well as search-and-rescue teams in New Mexico, but I knew what it meant. Which is amusing, given my own hard-headed empiricism when it comes to New Age topics and such like. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say someone out there was performing a Working for me.
At any rate, I woke feeling a bit better about things than I have the past few days. It seems odd to take comfort from something I don’t believe in to start with, especially through the fragmented lens of dreaming, but there you have it.
Back in the waking world,
So I dream of pickup trucks while my daughter turns her personal odometer. Life does go on.