It's not there yet

A few nights ago, I had a dream I was on a train.

Unlike in real life, in which I'd have my suitcase zipped, all belongings secured, and be sitting at alert attention 10 minutes before we reached the destination, I had stuff strewn all over the train car.  My toiletries bag, which was see-through and orange in color, had upteen bottles and brushes and so forth, and was enormous. My suitcase was about 4 feet tall and looked ridiculous. (I am not sure about symbolism aside from the obvious implications of "big baggage" and the fact that orange is a fantastic color.)

The announcer came over the PA and said we were almost at my stop.  In fact, the train stopped moments later.  But when I looked outside the train, we weren't on the platform. The platform was still a small distance away.

At that point, I started to sing a song that I made up on the spot and set to work putting all my things into my bag and suitcase.  It's moments like this that I wish I could invite you all into my dreams, amigos, so that you can hear my ridiculous song and perhaps sing along.  It wasn't a beautiful song, but more of an informational song (I am picking up my brush, putting it in my bag, wonder why my stuff is spread all over, I might have sung). I grew up in a house of loud siblings and this is something that was done.  One sibling makes up songs to encourage her children to brush their teeth, wash their hands, etc.

I packed my bag, my train moved to the platform, and it was there I got off, with my giant luggage. End of story.

In real life, I think of this as a sign.  I'm going somewhere new, but I am just not there yet.  I can see it but I can't reach it.  My luggage (big as it may be) cannot be lugged through the grass. I have to wait until I reach the platform to get off this train.

I see this in my professional as well as personal life.  I see it also with my health. I am working toward changing things for the better.  And sometimes, I sing.