Her Hungarian accent lilting through the words, she said, "You know what you have to do. You must forgive yourself."
"What do you mean? I have. I've forgiven myself for all kinds of things!"
"For everything?"
"Well, the big stuff, at least..."
"It must be for everything. Absolutely everything."
"But, I... I mean... I don't get it. I've tried."
"Well. You know what that little space troll said. 'Do or do not. There is no try.'"
"Really? You're quoting Star Wars at me?"
"I'm saying that you have to forgive yourself. Completely. You have to love yourself. Fully. How can you really forgive and love others unless you first practice that principle on yourself?"
"But I do love myself. Despi..." She interrupted me, shaking her head and wagging her finger.
"No, no. Not despite everything. Because of everything. You don't get to pick and chose. Nuh. Don't cry. Have another piece of cake. I made it special just for you."
I looked at the plate she handed me. On it was a map of the world with one of my eyes where the compass should be. I looked up at her. She smiled and nodded. I nodded in return - I got it, Grandma. She faded out of the dream.
I woke up enough to roll over. Right into another dream.
I was in the driver's seat of my old truck, a TV actor (I don't know his name, but I recognized him) was in the passenger seat. "Where to?" I said.
"Just head across the country. Just drive."
"Cool. Road trip! Uh. But I only have about $100 for gas. That'll maybe get us into Wyoming, but..."
"It doesn't matter. Just drive. It's the journey that signifies, not the destination. It's always about the journey, ya Dodo... don't we always figure it out along the way? Don't we always manage? Just drive."
We headed down familiar routes to I-90, taking back roads through Carnation, Duvall, Fall City and North Bend. I headed East on I-90. It was a bright, sunny day. The trees looked like they were on fire, the color of the leaves was such brilliant gold and red. The Cascade Mountains loomed like giant teeth before us, and it wasn't long before we came to a point in the road that tunneled through the mountains. The sign about half a mile before the tunnel read, "Everywhere is HERE to someone. Buckle up."
The actor and I grinned at each other and said simultaneously, "Be here now." Laughed and then again simultaneously, "Ram Dass." And laughed a little harder.
It was the laughter that woke me up... to a morning that smells like coffee and fog... and promise.