The Dream
Let me tell you about my dream.
It happened during a hot night in the summer of 2020.
My air conditioner was blowing hot air with the help of three small fans pointed at the head of the bed, fighting off my night sweats. It was hard for me to fall or stay asleep those nights. My waking hours were full of anxiety and doubts, fear of the future as a new young adult fresh out of graduate school. I had so many goals and big ideas, but I felt crushed under the weight of the world. This night, I made myself a cup of tea before bed.
Mugwort, lemon balm, roses. A tea for dreams.
I was old. I knew that much.
I didn't have a mirror, but I saw my hands and they were wrinkled. The dimples between my knuckles were deep, uneven. I couldn't see my feet beneath the floorsweeping linen skirt I wore. And it was warm out with the time of day indiscernable, maybe the end of a sunset or minutes before dusk.
And I was following this little girl.
It was hard to keep up with her, but she led me to a small wooden door and turned around.
"Open it," she said excitedly.
I fumbled with my key, turned the brassy knob, and then I pushed. And whole new world opened up in front of me.
The room was humid, filled with a lively and growing garden: lush green plants and colorful flowers I'd never seen before. My eyes followed the floating shelves of dried herbs in their glass jars upward until I realized there was no ceiling, just birds and bees zipping by a bright blue sky.
I looked back at my guide and she looked a lot like me in the light.
"Where are we?" It was the first time I heard my new voice.
"The land of milk and honey. And it's yours as long as you dream."