The Deeper Meaning

I put my book down and turned out the light at 9 pm thinking that, based on how tired I was feeling, I would wake up around 7 am. Hoping I would anyways.

It's 11:47 pm and I feel rested and ready to take on the day. Awesome.

My dreams lately have been extremely vivid and easily interpreted. They've been powerful, to say the least. Tonight, in the 3 or so hours that I fell into a wonderfully dream-filled sleep, I actually heard a voice. Oh yes. Loud and clear. A male voice. Stoic, firm and gentle. In the dream I was standing on a pier on an ocean. A vicious storm was raging all around me. The sky was musty and dark, clouds low, outlined in crystal white and the wind was strong enough to pick me up and toss me at its will. I don't remember there being rain. No, no rain but I remember pushing through the wind, back over the pier towards light. It was a warm, amber light that I imagine was coming from a house. But I didn't see the house, just the light. About halfway up the pier, I found myself on the edge, struggling and watching, with fear and fervency, the incredible waves. They looked like stone walls but curling and moving like wild animals. As I looked down and saw the reflection of the light on the frantic water, I heard the voice, clear as day, and it said:

'In a storm, the fish are like mountains.'

Just as I heard these words, I saw something dark and large lurking just under the surface. I felt the wind trying to take me and I remember thinking that although I had nothing to hold onto I just needed to keep my balance and pull myself to the light. I inhaled so deeply that I think my conscious self felt an expansion of the chest and ribs as well. I breathed in, steadied my feet and I remember taking a wide step towards the light, one arm reaching out. And here I thought, 'I'm going to be fine. I did it.'

The fish are becoming less like mountains and more like fish.
I'm going to be fine. I'm doing it.