Several weeks ago, I had a dream. In this dream my younger brother, older sister, and her four children went to Sea World with the intention of stealing an orca and returning him to the ocean. We had the orca loaded for transport when we realized one of my nieces was missing. I was worried sick that we would never find her, because I knew she would be too shy to ask for help. Eventually, we found her, but it took us forever to get her to speak, even to any of us.
The orca died in transit. I told my siblings and nephews he’d at least died on his way to freedom, but I had failed. I was relieved we’d found my niece, but I had failed in what I had set out to do.
I dream of this niece often. Distressingly enough, I once dreamed she died in my arms not long after she was born. Then, shortly after I moved to Oklahoma, I dreamed we were camping on a fireless, starless night, and she said, “When I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light unto me.” People say she is a lot like me, this niece, and in these dreams, I think she symbolizes me.
I’ve said this here before: I don’t believe in lost causes. The more impossible a situation, the greater I believe its potential to be saved. And restored. And redeemed.
If someone is going to kidnap an orca and return him to his rightful habitat, it’s going to be me.
And that’s how I came to be here in Oklahoma: trying to restore a metaphorical orca.
It’s also how I lost myself.
I don’t write much anymore.
Don’t sing much anymore.
Don’t teach kids anymore.
Don’t build community anymore.
Add to that, the one thing I came here to see through is not going to happen.
I’ve been told (semi-jokingly) lately that I’m becoming a workaholic, but my job is the one thing I have going for me right now.
I am starting to miss the other parts of myself, though. Maybe it’s time to go looking for them. Coax them out into the open.
I guess we’ll see.
No more rescue missions, though.