I dreamed I was driving, late at night, in an outlying area near my city. A friend of mine was following in her car behind me, and we were looking for a place to do some work. It had snowed, and the roads were slippery, but we were the only cars on the road. We found a broken down building and figured no one would be using it. We went inside and got ready to work on whatever it was we were there to do. I had the feeling we were running late.
I heard a noise in the corner and realized someone was there. It was a child, and soon after, his mother appeared. They were living in this tiny, one room home in this broken down building. Surprisingly, they were not angry with us for being there. In fact, the mother knew me. She’d contacted me as she was looking for therapy, but I’d had no openings available. Soon her husband showed up, and as she was explaining who I was, I looked around the dingy little room. I felt I should do something for them. Did they have food? Could I give them money? Or take them grocery shopping? Would it be insulting to offer? Clearly, they needed help. I woke up still pondering the question of what to do.
A day later, this dream is still on my mind. I have been working hard lately, most likely too hard. The image of driving late at night, too fast on slippery roads, in search of a place to do work, is pretty vivid. With all that going on, what aspects of my life have been quietly relegated to this broken down one room shack? And is this dream their way of patiently calling me, looking for an opening in my schedule?