Finding My Way Home

 I woke up exhausted from my dreams last night. My cat, Angel, letting me know it was morning and it was time to comb his hair. I went to the bathroom, and he sat on the stool waiting for his hair to be brushed. As I brushed his hair, all my other fur babies poured in and around me. I brushed their hair and soaked in their love as I remembered the dream I just broke away from. It has exhausting, trying to find my way home.

In my dream my dog, Tabi, who died about two years ago now, had broken from her leash and was lost. The exhaustion of loosing so much in the last four years wanted to overtake me. But, I had to get her home. While looking for her, I spotted two little girls, trying to make their way home. I followed behind them to make sure they arrived safely. I wanted to be the guide that helped me as a child. They returned home and their home was beautiful. I really had to use the restroom and knocked on the door. No answer. How strange. I knocked again and got worried. Did they arrive safely as I thought? I twisted the knob and it was unlocked. I entered, worried. Everything appeared normal, so I used the facilities. I then proceeded to stop and use the laptop open on the desk. I recorded the experiences and got out. Once out, there was a gardener outside in the flowers. Beautiful hydrangeas and roses were everywhere. The gardener was so nice, I didn't want her to feel like I betrayed her trust by entering in her house unannounced. I was worried. I watched her care for her flowers and felt grateful, but fear lingered. I needed to tell someone I had no ill intent. I grabbed my phone and had a missed call from my friend, Laura. 

"Sorry, I missed your call" I was full of excuses but asked if everything was okay. We talked while I searched for my dog, Tabi. I found her. "I have to go, I have to get Tabi home, but I will call you right back." I mentally flipped through what felt like timelines to find her home. She only remembered me, and not the home, so as long as I got her somewhere safely, it was fine. I mentally checked the years and residences I had been at. I was only at this place for two years, where I returned her, but it was safe. My cats were there and safe. But, I knew I was not in the correct place. I secured the animals and set out again to find my way. I was on Walton Street, so I thought, it is a straight shot home, just follow the road.

"Hey, sorry, I got Tabi home, what's going on?" I asked my friend. She began telling me about what was  happening in her world when I came upon a strange little place tucked into a corner. It was a sweets eatery of some sort. Pastel pink paint covered the buildings and little carts. Macaroons and other sweets laid out all over the surface. I was amazed how wonderful it was, but so hidden. I told my friend about it and that I had to record this place and I needed to call her back again. I then proceeded to take pictures and videos of all the sweetness. The owners appeared and looked at me as if I was crazy. I told them how much I admired the work they had done. They informed me this was their second establishment and treated me poorly. They asked what I did for a living. I didn't have the energy to explain all I did so I said "I act for a company." They then insulted me and said, "You don't seem to have the voice for acting." I agreed, I was loosing my voice and not a profession I had even planned on. As I walked away I thought to myself, typical, judging me what they wanted to see in me only. I pushed away the resentment.

I kept telling myself, if I move straight down this road, I will get home. I knew where I thought I was, just move forward I told myself. I returned the phone call and told my friend about the beautiful place I saw, it was inspiring, even if the owners were not. I then encountered more rudeness from people unwilling to help me, judging me on my clothing and how lost I was. Somewhere along the way, I lost my phone, I lost connection. I was hurt by the back to back disdain I had felt from unhelpful people. I struggled to keep the resentment inside. I knew if I unleashed my fury through my tongue, I would hurt them and that wasn't my intent. I only wanted to get home. In my mind I mumbled, "You ungrateful fucks, unappreciative and dismissive of anything beyond your own minds." My resentment towards the people was something I had to shut down, it made me unhelpful. But, still in my awakened awareness, they piss me off. I moved forward, thinking if I just keep going straight, I will find my way home.

I encountered unhelpful person, after unhelpful person that only made me more determined to make it home. Instead of helping, they made things more difficult and it was not a full battle within me to contain my anger. I pressed forward, climbing over fences while people griped at me. I was exhausted at this point and finally began to tell people to fuck off. I looked a mess. I was dirty, lost and tired and instead of offering help, the people offered insults. The internal battle waged on within me as I explained to one onlooker that I was lost. They didn't care, I just needed to get off their premises. I purposely began knocking things over and did not stop to pick things up at that point. My disgust was overwhelming for me. Surely, now that I am really lost, if I keep moving forward, I will find a road I thought. Instead, I entered building after building. There were no roads, only buildings.

I arrived at a ground level in one particular building, only to find the land dropped two floors to get to the get back to the surface. The staircase was ridiculous. In my mind I was perplexed to why they would build something so extremely difficult to get through. There were no stairs, only strange railing I had to slide from level to level to maneuver down. I have a fear of heights, and just sucked it up. I kept telling myself, just focus on the task at hand, one level at a time. I worked my way down to the ground level and things went from being pretty to a place filled with garbage. There were a lot of people here, oddly this place was dirtier, but the people were more helpful. The arrogance was not present, but looming feelings of greed filled the air. I felt unsafe as if there were no order here. I was then confronted by food trucks. I watched the workers ask "What do I do with these beans?" Someone said, "Just throw them out with the rest of the trash." I was climbing over piles of trash when I was thrashed with more trash.

I climbed over bags and bags of wasted food. As I climbed over disgusting pile I thought, why are they wasting all this food? I felt disgusting and dirty. I looked back at the food truck to see the name, African something. The name seemed very odd to me. Then appeared a man from another food truck, thinking I was homeless. He offered me fresh food. I told him I was only lost and trying to find my way home. I thought if I kept moving forward, it would lead me home. He looked at me strangely and said, "Everyone knows this road is owned by government and leads to the recycling center, where EVERYTHING gets recycled." I was perplexed. How far had I traveled? Why were there no roads leading in and out of this place? Why were these food trucks gathered behind all these buildings, so difficult to get to? I moved forward, regretting no eating. I thought there was enough trash here if I did get so desperate to eat. Then, a clearing appeared.

I stepped forward onto a hilltop. I was taken back by the beauty. Everything was golden, the land, the sky, the grass. My heart filled with joy and I tried to take it all in. I needed to record this. I must of lost my phone in the piles of garbage I was climbing over. I wanted to remember this view, it made all of my struggle melt. I said out loud, "This was worth it all, this right here." I saw far over the lands, all golden hued, with little rolling hills and patchwork of land. I wanted to stay, but knew this was only a small respite. I reluctantly moved forward down the winding road, out of the golden sanctuary. I was ready to rest. The road then turned into a junkyard. Miles and miles of automobiles and metal junk. Vast wastelands of junk. This must be the recycling center the guy told me about. I saw people moving in and out, dropping off more junk. I looked over and saw an old car. It had been gutted but filled with a white fabric. It was clean and inviting. I wanted to nap. It was luring me into rest. A feeling of danger came over me. If I stay here, or slept there, I would get assaulted. The feeling of fear surrounded me.

This place felt more unsafe than the food truck area. People were coming in though, so there were roads. If there were roads in, then there were roads out and I had to find one fast. I felt so exhausted, but pushed my body to the limit. I had to get home. I had to find one of these roads out. I could feel the dust from the roads clinging to my skin. I felt filthy from climbing over piles of garbage and now the dust was adhering to the sweat on my skin. Then, I saw a road, and a green street sign. What was the street? How far had I walked? It didn't matter, it was civilization, some normalcy. I had made my way through all the previous hell, I could navigate this. I emerged onto a familiar street. I still had a way to go, but I had found my way to familiar ground. I felt glad that I had safely returned my dog, but loosing my way had been difficult. 

I woke up with familiar exhaustion. As I sat and brushed my cat's hair, I thought about the difficulties and how I had no want to relive any of that madness. I closed my eyes and tried to recall the golden land of respite. Where was home I thought to myself? My blogging was interrupted by a neighbor ringing my doorbell. I'm ready to go back to bed and get some rest now.