Action movie and deer
This morning’s offering seems to have been divided into different segments.
There’s some sort of crisis situation, where a bomb or end of the world device needs diffusing. Or maybe it’s something wrong with the paper, that can only be averted by some elaborate fail-safe mechanism, and the time is ticking away. I know it might be paper related, because former co-workers are there. One of them is trying to tell me what to do, but he’s busy on deadline, so it’s up to me to save it.
There’s an elaborate unlocking mechanism in a heavy steel door, and I manage to squeak in. There are more codes, a sense of urgency, as I move further into the inner sanctum, but I am stopped by someone who wants to have a casual conversation. But in order to keep people from panicking, I can’t let anyone know what I’m doing, so I try to disengage.
The other segment I can remember (taking a break, and actually writing this very early the next day) is driving and then walking through a narrow dirt road just after dusk, and spotting deer, one after another, standing their ground. They are approachable, and I go up to hug one. It lets me, probably a doe. I keep finding more every few yards, and pause to talk to or pet each one.
Then a very sad thing happens. I find a deer lying on its side, dead. I cry and try not to look at it as I keep moving.
How sad! It’s as if making yourself vulnerable to them inevitably leads to having to feel for them as well. Yet isn’t that how it is with the best relationships? And it’s hard to have to face the sad things.