where waves grow sweet

“Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10

I had a dream about 10 years ago that really stuck with me. While I realize that most people aren’t interested in reading the bizarre nighttime thoughts of others, I’m going to take a risk and share it anyway.

There was a little toy monkey holding onto a wire and flipping around it incessantly like a gymnast on speed. It was an old-school sort of toy where each time you squeeze the supporting bars, the monkey is set in motion. Even though there was no hand to squeeze life into the tiny creature, he continued to spin frantically, his little wooden joints rattling as his limbs flailed about.

The dream panned out to reveal me… an enormous, perfect, ripe nectarine, much like the giant peach James inhabited on his journey.  I had no arms, hands, fingers; no legs, feet or toes. I was incapable of motion and could only sit in my big, juicy flesh and watch the crazed monkey. Despite this apparent limitation, I cannot express the peace I felt. There have been few times in my life – awake or asleep – when I have known such wellbeing and contentment.

Even so, the monkey’s movement and energy had an appealing draw. I was tempted to set my desire on a similar freedom. But there was a deep sense of knowing that the monkey was striving; that to have his kind of freedom would mean foregoing the overwhelming peace I knew in perfect stillness. It was clearly a poor tradeoff. So contentment won out, the dream ended, and I awoke with a hankering for fresh fruit and a pressing desire to live from a place of rest.