Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call
Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall
You’ve seen it all, you’ve seen it all”
~Jimmy Buffet, “A Pirate Looks at Forty”
Dreams speak to us, if we will allow them. They tell us wondrous things, only a fraction of which are true, but still so wondrous that we would believe them if we only could. My dreams of late have been speaking loudly of treasure maps and of seeking out those things of value that have been lost. For months, my dreams have called me to a specific place, so much so that I have seen in those dreams pirate’s maps marked with a big ‘X’ over this place with every path on the map covered with arrows to point me in the direction of that X.
What do you do with such dreams? Do you heed their message or do you assume that the things they tell you are merely wondrous fables? What do you do any time life presents you with a big X marking the spot? The problem, in my case, is that I don’t know what the X was marking, other than a spot, the spot. But a spot of what? Of tea? Of trouble? A spot on a fireman’s dalmatian? There is, of course, always the option of asking the powers that be for a little enlightenment in the matter. For me, the forthcoming answer was simply fingers pointed at the X and a strongly worded suggestion that I go find out for my damn self.
This weekend, I finally had a chance to venture out to the spot marked by the X, a barrier island on the Atlantic coast, where there is very little to do short of visiting the few tourist shops or hanging out on the beach. I opted for the beach, because not even Black Friday can induce me to step inside a hokey beach tourist shop hawking overpriced t-shirts and baseball caps. I walked along the beach, risked hypothermia in order to get my feet wet, basked in the warm sun, found a few shells for souvenirs, ran around with previously quoted verse of song in my head, and tried to connect with the place in a way more meaningful than my inner five year old drawing in the sand and screeching “Yippee beach!!!”
The result of my attempt to connect with something bigger than myself was astounding… nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. No brilliant flash of insight, no meaningful moment of meditation, no messages, no guidance from above (or below for that matter, not even a whisper from a sideways direction), not a slap on the wrist with accompanying “bad human”. Just NOTHING and lots of it.The most extraordinary moment of the day was that I realized it had been a decade since I seen the ocean, last time on a very different beach and I, a very different person. There was me and there was an entire ocean, but there was no sign of that spot marked by the gigantic X on all those maps.
So, in the end, I don’t know what message the universe was trying to send. When, in frustration, I asked anyone who answer what the purpose of that exercise had been, I was told in no uncertain terms that it was up to me to figure it out. Raggle… Could someone kindly explain to the universe that the X is supposed to mark a prized treasure, not another mystery?
I’m home now, hundreds of miles from that island, nursing a sun/wind burn and wondering if the cosmic laughter I hear is at my expense or in my honor. On second thought, I’m not sure I want to know.