I went somewhere in my dreams last night. I couldn’t tell you where exactly. There were many places. At one point, we went to a house deep underwater. It was a very small house because, you know, real estate is very expensive at the bottom of the ocean. At one point, we discovered a passage in a dresser or a chest or some other nook or cranny. I say “we,” but I can’t remember with whom I was. But anyway, we found this passage in this small house at the bottom of the ocean and it led to a whole other place. There were more people there, which was very surprising because we thought we ourselves had made a very daring trip to the bottom of the ocean. How then could there be all these other people here? It did not make sense spatially, either. It is not easy to construct a house on the ocean floor. The house was, in fact, very small. And there were no connections to other places of which we were aware. Where then was all this other space coming from? I met a woman in this other place. I asked her a question and she said something that struck me as very wise. I cannot remember it exactly now. I asked her something alone these lines, “Why are you living at the bottom of the ocean?” She said, “Down here, we are living. Up there, you are …” And it was something else. Something that made me feel like I didn’t belong up there. That I should be living at the bottom of the ocean too.

I have had dreams like this before—specifically ones where you have to cram yourself through a tiny claustrophobic passage to get to a whole other wide open world that you didn’t even know existed. It is very much like Narnia. I wonder if that concept of traveling to another world through a closet was born from a dream. I don’t know what it means. But this morning I feel different. The only thing to which I can compare it is how I feel after I’ve travelled. Like the old world to which I return after is brand new. Everything I knew and felt before is behind me. I have travelled and learned something new and now things are not the same.