I had a dream few nights ago. It’s funny how dreams come at just the right time to make it possible for us to rise up and keep going, moving forward through the struggles of waking life. It’s heartwarming how they can give us direction and reminders.

It’s that time of year when teachers feel worn and we wonder how we’ll make it through the year, how we can serve our struggling students as our own energy fades away to almost nothing. That night before I slept, I cried again, with the sorrows and doubts of working in special education combined with my own personal struggles of moving from keto diet for epilepsy to trying to figure out how to eat normally again, not to mention the horrors of the larger world as ICE murdered and abducted innocent people, our country struggled against facism at home, and our president and his minions broke all the rules across the world. I was just worn out.

As I slept, I found myself in a circle of women all dancing, laughing, and singing in the shadows of the cedar tree. I lay there on the ground in the midst of the circle, curled up and hiding in plain sight. Some of the women came to me with a gift. I opened the box to find beautiful boots, a combination of dancing slippers and combat boots with tall heels and flowers on the sides. The women invited me to join the dance.

I started to refuse. I don’t wear heels. I could never stand, much less dance in such boots. These certainly weren’t meant for me. The women continued to encourage me and I eventually pulled the boots over my worn feet. They felt surprisingly good, warm, and comfortable. The women held me as I struggled to my feet and began to wobble cautiously. Soon, I began to stretch out tall, raising my arms up to the sun, and throwing my head back to laugh and sing.

I joined the circle of women and celebrated with the dance.

Sometimes we just need to dream