Navigating Urgency and Protection in a Dream

It started in what looked like an airport. There were archways, tall, arched walkways lining both sides of a canal that ran through the street. It felt like Denmark, or maybe Holland or the Netherlands, that’s what the scenery looked like. I’m not sure if it was there, but that’s what it reminded me of, somewhere in that part of the world.

We were moving fast, heading out toward the tarmac. Planes were lined up. There was a sense of urgency. We were running in a hurry.

There was a call like an announcement, but it was only for us on our way. It was something about a fall or our fall. I’m not sure what it was, but we all knew exactly what to do.

There were these static bags, shiny silver like the kind that computer parts come in. Everyone had them. Inside each bag was a pair of headphones, like the ones that you get from airline staff.

We were putting the headphones over our feet, over our shoes. I don’t know why, but we couldn’t move forward without doing it. When they got on our shoes, they formed around them like a protective barrier, air tight, for our shoes because, for some reason, we needed it for some type of ground lightning, which is what I was thinking. And the headphones stayed in their place and had to be part of it, so that on the balls of all our feet there was a pair of airline headphones that worked perfectly without being plugged in, and we could hear what the headphones were receiving, but we heard it in our ears even though they were on our feet.

We were all in different spots, scattered. I must’ve been further ahead, because I remember cutting across a grass field to get to one of the planes. I didn’t want to go, but I had to.

But that wasn’t the hard part.

Then there was something about “the investor” or “the back study card.” I’m not sure what it was.

A woman had her hands over a child. She was shielding them, protecting them. That wasn’t the important part, though. The part we were supposed to be aware of. Like it was a key moment. A grounding moment. So we could orient ourselves. Like we had to ground the clay, or maybe ourselves, in the right way.

I didn’t remember that part until later in the day, after the fights. And people were talking to children. Telling them:

“This is it.

This is the end.”