Why am I on a Ladder?

Response 3:
Write about an obsession... if you can remember a dream, especially one that you've had more than once, write about it.

Why Am I on a Ladder?

It’s a fantastic view. It always is. Once it was a gigantic lush green plain, full of tall flowing grasses. I could see for miles and miles. And all of a sudden, I could see a storm rolling in. I counted the time between lightning and thunderclaps; it was about six miles away. I just watch the clouds tumble closer, rolling on over the grass, on their way towards me. When its three miles away I notice that the cloud is a dark purple color, intermixed with wisps of gray. It’s not all that odd, the sky turns strange colors in the presence of hard rain. I continue watching the clouds, getting closer and closer. I can smell the rain now, feel the thunder rumbling. Not once do I find it strange that I am standing on a ladder that is probably about sixteen feet high, standing straight up from the ground with nothing to hold it up. That is, until I start to totter. I look down for the first time and realize how high up I am. In a moment of sheer panic, I realize I don’t know how to get down, or how I got there in the first place. Then, in slow motion, I feel myself falling forward, the ground gets closer, and closer. I can see each blade of grass coming into sharp focus, the smell of rain and damp ground getting closer. And the split second before I make contact, BAM. I’m awake. I’ve been having falling dreams since I was a kid. They usually follow that same pattern. Amazing landscape, enjoying the view, notice the ladder, fall, wake. One particularly interesting one took place in the middle of huge body of water. I can tell I’m high up this time, but I don’t really mind it. I am attempting to understand the sheer vastness of the body of water around me. There is a slight, warm breeze blowing the hair out of my face. The sun is shining, but it’s not blinding. The water is a brilliant cerulean blue with small ripply waves. In a jolt, I realize I am not on a boat. I am standing on a ladder in the middle of a huge body of water. It’s a simple wooden ladder that no one has used in years, and it goes straight into the water, and I can’t see the bottom. The ladder starts to lean backwards, and in attempt to fix it, I lean too far forward and start to fall face first towards that shining water. Each rung hits the water and makes a sloush sound, and small bubbles start to rise from the water. Sloush, sloush, sloush, shloush. I can see my reflection in the water, my face wrinkled on the waves. Closer, and closer I get to my turquoise reflection, and right before my toes touch, I wake. I never let go of the ladder. I don’t recall a falling dream where I do let go. As if that small wooden structure will save me from flattening into the earth, or water, or whatever medium I am exposed to in that dream. I wonder if I will ever sleep long enough to hit the ground. Maybe I have to let go to find out.

14 February 2007