Insignificant Meanderings

Lying on my back and looking at the emerging stars, I begin to drift off to sleep. I can feel the gentle wind blow through my hair, the scorpion sitting on my knee. I try to move, but numbness overcomes, my hands are underwater. My sandy feet sit motionless, screaming. I don’t know why I’m afraid of a scorpion. If I sit still, he’ll leave. If he bites me, I die. Either way, the episode will be over soon. But yet, the fear and terror overwhelm. This is a dream, no? And if it is, I should be able to control it. Squeezing my eyes tight, I tell the universe, please remove this scorpion from my dream. And in its place, leave $175,000 cash. That should be enough to sustain me for a little while and makes up for the dread of the scorpion. When I wake up, I will be buried in a small mound of crisp, tightly bound bundles of cash. Next thing I know, I feel my consciousness rising. I debate opening my eyes. Part of me is terrified that the scorpion will be there. Another part is terrified that the money will not be there. But of course, it’s going to be there, if I have the confidence that it is. I have no trouble with that, as strange and mystical as that may sound. For this to work, I must embrace that dreams are boundless and woven with reality. My eyes begin to let in minuscule slivers of light. I recollect that it’s twilight. My legs feel heavy, which initially frightens me. But no, none of that, I tell myself as I slowly reach down to learn what my trembling hand will encounter. I touch the scorpion. As I begin to shriek, I realize that the hard outer shell is really the skin of a bulging burlap bag, a wad of $100s boldly protruding out of the top. I am overcome with emotion as I internalize that the universe has delivered. In gratitude, I slowly stand up, pick up the bag and heave it over my shoulder. Smiling, I begin walking away from the beach, away from my dream, and back into the amazing adventure that is my life.