The Turtle

11 July 2010

The Little Tibetan Inn, Pokhara, 6 am

The Turtle

I dreamed that I was the passenger in a car.  The person driving was a supportive male friend.  A turtle wandered into the road and flipped itself over right in the middle of the lanes.  I made the driver stop, got out of the car, and stopped oncoming traffic.  Then I carefully turned the turtle right side up and gingerly carried it to the side of the road.  I had never picked up a turtle before and worried that I was hurting it by holding it only from its shell.  When I set it down, it began to crawl toward the center of the highway again, propelled by some archaic instinct.  I rescued it once more and again held it nervously while I scanned the area for the place that it seemed to be wanting to go.   I saw a path leading down away from and then underneath the road to a glen.  I set the turtle at the edge of a pool and watched it as it sat, stunned.  Then it eased itself forward into the water and swam away.  I climbed back up the hill, feeling very happy.

When I awakened I wondered if I had dreamed about rescuing myself.  I had to leave the car driven by a supportive man and carry myself to water, safety, and freedom.  I didn’t quite know how to carry myself, and worried about getting hurt.  But it was essential to figure out how to save myself.  Only then could I return to companionship with the person who has always been waiting for me.