This image is about a dream I had the night I went to visit my uncle, just a few days before he passed. This is what I remember of that dream: the palm of a hand being shoved in my face, and this message. When I woke up, I felt unsettled and wanted to strike it from my mind.
But that visual of the palm has stayed with me.
It reminded me so much of my skydiving experience. During pre-jump training, I was prepped to expect that, after free falling for 1,000 feet, the tandem instructor harnessed behind me would bring my wrist up to my face to show me the altimeter, which was my signal to pull the chute.
When I tell the story, I always say that the freefall experience was so deeply profound and exhilarating—I was a bird up there in a soundless sky—and so far removed from everything, I probably would have happily plummeted to my death had it not been for the instructor, jarring me from the moment with the altimeter in my face. I was not ready for it. I wanted to fly up there much longer than a minute. Maybe forever.
And that’s how it was in the dream. I got the sense that someone was forcing me to acknowledge a message that I didn’t want to see, that I was not ready for.