A Dream

You'll know how infrequently I remember dreams, or even fragments of dreams, because I generally note them down here in The Buddha Diaries and it doesn't happen often. This is the latest: we are headed home from the airport and arrive at the place where we left off our car. It's the gold Lexus SUV--a vehicle we bought a number of years ago, in pre-Prius days, at a time when we still believed we needed something in which we could transport stuff hither and yon, whether for business (Ellie's) or pleasure. We scarcely ever use it these days. It sits in the garage and waits for those times when we decide it's time to take it out for some exercise, to turn the engine over and charge the battery. Over the years, it has accumulated only a little over fifteen thousand miles.

But that's beside the point. We arrive at the place we left it, which turns out to be a cross between a service station and a parking lot, and start to look for the car where we thought we left it. The lot is not that crowded, and we walk up and down the nearest rows, clicking the unlock button on the key ring in hopes of hearing the beep. No luck. Yet we could have sworn we left it here...

We find an attendant, somewhat grumpy, who asks if we have looked upstairs. We didn't even know there was an upstairs--we have been walking in the sunlight. But now we realize, yes, there is a floor above, even though we're sure we left the car on the ground level. The grumpy attendant bestirs himself, remembering vaguely having had to move a car, and that some damage had been inflicted in the process, a door caught against a sharp turn and dented. He would help me look.

To get to the second floor I have to climb a very narrow spiral staircase with a cold metal railing. It seems to get higher and narrower at each turn, and the task of climbing it more difficult. By the time I reach the top and emerge half into the light, I am both exhausted and trapped by the last turn of the staircase. I make excruciating efforts to break free, to release my body, attempting to haul myself up with the remaining strength in my arms.

It's no good. I can't do it. I have to get the attention of the attendant, telling him how embarrassing I find it to have to ask for help...

I'm not sure if the dream ended before I was actually rescued from this predicament, or whether I was still trapped. For that matter, I don't know if I ever found the car or not. No matter, I was happy either way to be back in the land of wakefulness! Any dream interpreters out there?