The moon is a very quiet, lonely place. The absence of noise is a dull roar.
This I know from my very unsettling dream last night, a dream that refuses to leave me alone even after two cups o' deep dark bean.
I was elected to go to the moon by family, friends and a group of scientists ("Pow! Straight to the moon, Alice!"). I don't know how I got on the list, but there I was. I was one of a final group of three undergoing scrutiny. The man who was in the group didn't pass the background check - which cracked me up because it's not like the moon is littered with meth labs, y'know? The other woman was a contender, but at the last minute she began to show signs of severe psychopathic, disconnect from reality tendencies. In fact, when they told me I'd made the cut, they whispered it to me because they didn't want her to hear. A man leaned over and said, "You're in, but we don't want to create a scene. Now get up and walk out of the room like you're headed to the bathroom. But go to the lab so they can get you outfitted."
The moon trip was a one way ticket, an extended experiment on the effects of extreme isolation. I was excited to go. I mean, who wouldn't want a chance to see what the moon is really like?! But I was upset because it was sort of top secret and I didn't get to say goodbye to anyone. Once there, I wasn't allowed or able to communicate with earth in anyway. It was just me and the moon and the deafening quiet...
... and the deep sadness that came with knowing this was all there was for me for the rest of my life.
The sadness is what woke me up. Woke me up and weighted me down. I've had a difficult time swimming to the surface this morning, despite the bean. Usually I can shake dreams to the periphery, but not today. This one wants to be noticed, demands attention. This one is saying, "Take time to appreciate how loved you are and the connections you have, because the alternative is cold. The alternative is a silence that screams in the dark."
I am loved. I am loved. I am loved.
Rocket (wo)man out.
You are loved, Barb!
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