Subway dream

Last night I had a dream.  Notable because I can actually still remember it though the details are fast fading even as I type.  (I took a few minutes to look for an image of the subway which contributed to the dilution, but I saw some interesting shots...love googling.)

I was in the NYC subway.  And somehow I dropped my bag and coat onto the tracks.  It was an accident of the flukey sort.  The track well was dry and clean (not the track wells of my childhood) and I had a strong feeling that all could be well so easily if only I could retrieve my belongings.

I called out to a worker for help and she, in turn, called out to another worker.  This second worker, also a woman, came to talk to me.  She informed me it would not be as simple as I had hoped.  We could hear the rumbling of oncoming trains.

I was discouraged.  Then, encouraged as a train pulled into the station on another track, but then discouraged again as a train rolled in on the track my stuff was on.

The dream held such sway that I dreamt about it again later in my sleep.  I was relaying what happened, that I had dropped my things onto the track, to someone.  I took the situation in stride.  There was clarity in the inevitability, as opposed to any sense of fatalism.  

Also, as I retold the story in my next, or continued, dream, I could see in my mind's eye my things were still there, unmussed, unharmed...to be collected at any time, upon my return to the scene.  Now that I am awake, I still feel this potential.

And that's a good thing.