Every Night I Dream

Throughout my life, I have never had a problem believing in phenomena like déjà-vu or foresight, or some reality just beyond the physical. But even I, with an open mind and love for the mysterious, have been blown away by what has happened. This has been beyond anything I’ve I could have imagined in waking life... So it makes sense that it all started with a dream.

It was just after Christmas. Here in Australia, the heat had set in. I was looking forward to a new year, and I found myself planning, thinking about what I hoped it would bring. The past few years had me drifting away from the heart of myself; I once knew exactly what I wanted out of life, but had drifted away from this due to fear and lack. And I longed for a reset; a chance to listen to myself again. What I really needed, I supposed, was some cash. Something to let me take time out, to rediscover who I was.

While I sat there on my bed, the sum of $20,000 flashed across my mind. This made me laugh. Twenty-thousand would be nice, yes. But how would I get that? ... Yet a part of me still allowed that random thought just to be.

So without trying to push it away, I let my mind drift on, and before long, I started to get sleepy. The sound of cicadas and the balmy air was lulling me into a hypnotic state, and sooner or later, I drifted off.

I was in a garden. A lush, quiet park. There was a breeze on my face as I walked through, and I knew exactly where I was going. It was so familiar. With every step, I felt a lightness in my heart; a knowing. As I walked in the sunlight, I saw a clear patch of earth, about the size of an elephant. Behind it, there was a tree, with pale green leaves. Something felt odd about it, but inviting. I wanted to climb it, to clamber up that white trunk.

I found myself running and skipping towards it, giggling as it seemed to beckon me. Before I knew it, I had leapt onto its bole and was scrambling to the top.

And as I reached my hand into its grooves, I felt something. A small, black book. I paused. The book felt hot, and powerful. It wanted to be opened, right in its middle. So I did. And there in the centre of the page, on the clean white paper, were four words:

“Every night I dream.”

* * * * *

I woke up.

Every night I dream. It stuck with me. Somehow, this felt like a mantra. Every night I dream. And it was true... I couldn’t remember when I last had a dreamless sleep. But something about this curious black book stayed with me throughout the day, and I kept remembering the lightness and fun of this strange dream-place.

A couple of days later, I found my mind wandering again. It had just passed New Year, and I found myself sleeping in during those first few January days. The warmth hadn’t left the air, yet I was enjoying the peace and quiet of my friends being away, and having no obligations with a few days off work. But knowing my busy life would be continuing within a week’s time, I decided to make the most of this holiday feel. There was a suburb I used to ride through on the tram, and I had been feeling an urge to go back there, and explore its pretty public gardens. I kept thinking about the lush trees, and how nice they would smell in summer.

So I grabbed my bag, and started on my journey. It was the better part of an hour before I came to the big stone fences and tall greenery I was so in love with. Jumping off the tram, I felt inspired to walk down a side street, next to a big park. But instead of going in, I kept walking. It was a beautiful area, and there was so much to see. Houses from the turn of last century, and established, wild gardens. I kept walking, and started up a hill. The properties were getting a bit larger, with fewer houses between the streets. Eventually I got to a particularly quiet block. It didn’t feel like anyone was in the houses, though I figured they were keeping cool inside... or maybe just on holiday.

Something felt familiar... but I didn’t see how it could. I’d definitely never walked in this area before; I was ages from the main streets, now. Yet I really felt I had been here before. There was an exciting lightness in me; like being on a great adventure, or coming back to visit a well-loved home. I almost started skipping a bit. There was a gap in the houses coming up on my left, and I felt drawn to head towards it.

I was in a garden. A lush, quiet park.

And then I saw it. I stopped. I had been here before.

There was a huge, beautiful tree. Pale green leaves, and a white, thick trunk. I started running towards it. There was a patch of dirt just before it, about the size of... an elephant? I laughed. What? It couldn’t be.

I ran up to the tree, and touched its smooth bark. It felt so nice to run my hands on, and it was so cool and inviting. I wanted to climb... I knew this tree.

My head was spinning, and I just wanted to laugh. This was bizarre.

But this time, I didn’t have to climb so far. About eight feet up, I saw it. In the bough of the tree, lay a small, black book. A leathery cover, and smooth, fresh pages.

I turned to the middle. And there, in round curly letters, the same four words I had been repeating all week.....

Every night I dream.

* * * * *

I don’t know how long it took me to get home. I felt like I WAS in a dream, yet what was happening? I had this mysterious black book, and some new experience that was just way too weird to mention. I wanted to shout and tell everyone this crazy thing going on... yet I also wanted to guard this with all my heart. Something didn’t feel ready yet. It was like my intuition was whispering to me to just be still, and protect it. This was like real magic.

And so I eventually got back, into my room. Once again, I opened up the notebook. It was entirely blank, but for this one page. The writing was bubbly, and big.

This was crazy.

I sat there, just half-thinking, until the middle of the night. Bemused yet enlivened, eventually I needed to sleep.

I tucked the notebook under my pillow.

* * * * *

I was back in the garden. The patch of dirt in front of me. The beautiful tree just behind. And in the middle of the soil, there was a coin. A gold, shiny coin.

Jumping into the dirt, I reached for it. But there wasn’t only one. In amongst the patch, I saw the other edges. They looked like little metallic worms. But as I reached out, I felt the coins in my fingers, and brushed off the dirt. There was one after the other. They were like an abundant harvest of carrots, continuously revealing themselves from the soil.

* * * * *

Barely waiting for sunrise, I set off to the park.

Everything was quiet again.

I virtually ran towards my beloved tree. That patch of dirt. So fresh, like newly turned soil. And I sat, and dug.

It was less than a foot down where my fingers first felt it. A small, familiar object. A $2 coin, just bigger than my thumbnail, with its beautiful ridges and satisfying weight.

I felt driven, and although part of me could barely believe what was happening, I wasn’t going to stop.

They were like magical earthworms. They were everywhere. But it wasn’t just coins. I started to find notes. The familiar polymer rainbow of currency... our red $20... then digging a bit further, and some more coins. Then the blue $10 note. And digging some more. Though I had only churned about 2ft down and 3ft across, I already I had a pile of notes and coins. Amongst the $10s, $20s, and $2s, I now had the pinks and yellows of $5s and $50s. My heart skipped a beat when I hit a glorious $100, in all its green beauty.

This was insane.

I lost track of the time, but it was easy work. They just kept coming. It wasn’t hard; my “elephant” of dirt was easily rewarding me.

Eventually, the discovery slowed down. I was still finding the occasional $2 coin, but when I stood up to look around, it seemed like I had turned the whole big patch.

There was... a LOT of money.

I still felt like I was in a dream. What was going on?

I started laughing. So hard and wildly I was crying at the absurdity. This WAS insane.

Eventually, I collapsed onto the dirt, my pile of money beside me, gazing at my beloved tree. Its leaves rustled in the gentle wind, as if it was full of mirth and joy with me.

After a while, I sat up. It felt like time to go.

I had my backpack with me, and thankfully I also had brought my fabric shopping bags tucked away.

The money was heavy. Although in the end I had majority notes (the $20s and $50s winning out), there were still a lot of coins. It felt like about 8kg, maybe more. I packed as much as possible in the backpack, and then double-bagged the rest. I just needed to get home.

When I got to my bedroom, I shut the door and looked in my mirror. I was COVERED in dirt... But who cares; I could change my sheets later! I jumped onto my bed, opened my backpack, and tipped out the bags. It was time to count.

It was about two-thirds through the notes that I realised. I knew this had to add up. And sure enough, my calculator didn’t lie.

Twenty-thousand dollars, exactly. Not a dollar either way.

What. On. EARTH.

I was completely overwhelmed with emotion, yet again, there was some part of me that just sat in this space, as if it was normal and expected and not at all some mind-blowing event. And I think I was in shock. How could this even be?

Dirt still under my fingernails, I fell into a heavy, restful sleep. Tomorrow was a new day, and I needed some time to consider what had happened.

* * * * *

I was back in the park. My beautiful tree in front of me; black leather book in my hands. I was looking up at those gorgeous leaves against the pink-streaked sky. It was time to leave them safe again.

I opened the notebook for the last time. There on the middle page, was my slanted, black writing. Every night I dream.

I kissed the cover, and climbed. My tree felt loving and solid below me. I came to the familiar bough, and tucked the notebook between the branches.

“Goodbye. Thank you,” I said.

I climbed back down, and looked up again. “Thank you so much.”

My tree stood, pale leaves rustling in the breeze.

Appreciation flooded through me. “I love you.”

* * * * *

When I awoke, I knew exactly what I had to do, and where I needed to go.

Before I got ready to leave again, I pulled out my black pen, and opened the notebook. Back to the centre page, which was now blank. Exactly as I knew it would be. I poised my pen, with a smile.

“Every night I dream.”