Quarantine Dream

If a fundraising professional falls in a forest… I mean sends a grant proposal from the work-from-home office, did it really happen?

In this dream, I’m at a conference with my teammates. Something I used to do with some frequency. It’s pre or post COVID so not the recurring dream where I’m out and no one is masked and I can’t deal. Just a normal conference. I’m there with my team — ten people I really enjoy traveling with and who I miss. We are gathered for breakfast — laughing and smiling to be together without a screen and spotty internet between us.

Our boss walks up to the table, but she isn’t our boss. Short, white, blond and soft spoken —not the qualities of our boss. Which later I think is a sign that I don’t blame her for the feelings I have about the dream — she keeps us laughing, keeps us connected — she’s done the best she can.

In the dream, we go to the session and are split into small groups to work on a project. It’s to be presented on the last day and should include creative skills — like singing, dancing, art — like a skit. I think, huh, our boss would be great at this — she’s a natural performer while the rest of us are dreading this a little.

Then I am in the hotel room — trying to find snacks. This is also a recurring theme to my dreams — likely related to the enormous time spent trying to find food while traveling — something I also used to do a LOT. I’m unzipping suitcase after suitcase and find granola bars, gum, pepto tablets. And dirty clothes that don’t fit anymore. Days pass, I think.

The conference is near an ocean, we go swimming one night and the water is clear and the stars sparkling across the waves. I go to sleep and remember nothing — a deep sleep that’s been lacking since I arrived at the conference — and lacking in real life lately.

I wake up to a knock at the door. I’ve missed check out. They need the room — what the hell time is it? 5:15 pm! Last day of the conference. I frantically try to pack. My stuff is everywhere — closets, drawers, bathroom — how long have I been here and why do I have so much stuff? 12 pairs of pants/jeans — stuffing them into a backpack — since when do I travel with a backpack? I find a cooler — that’s where the snacks went. This makes no sense. And how am I going to carry all of this stuff?

Downstairs in the lobby, the conference hall, I see a coworker on a stage — giving his skit. What? I missed a whole day of preparation and now it’s performance time. I look for my team. Instead I find my boss. I start yelling at her. How long would it take for you to realize you’re missing a team member? A whole day and you don’t even text to see if I’m okay? What kind of leader are you?

I storm away from her and run into a former coworker also attending the conference — a good friend in my waking life. He says, pick a color and holds up three markers — purple, green and yellow — like Mardi Gras. I give him a look and he says, pick a team — there’s still time to join in the fun. I shake my head, close to crying — I can’t just jump in last minute without preparation. I’ll be too embarrassed.

I wake up. It’s fuzzy like always. But I’ve learned to not look at the facts, but the feelings of the dream. What am I feeling?

Left out.
Forgotten.
Uninformed.
Disconnected.
Exhausted.
Overwhelmed.
Frantic.
Insignificant.
Unprepared.

Welcome to COVID Quarantine where work-from-home fakes a job well done. But you don’t believe it. Where you reply to emails and create documents, enter data and pull reports, make phone calls and send cards… but you don’t feel anything. Instead it’s like we are sleeping through it all.

How do I know if what I am doing matters at all? If I can’t see it in actual faces? If I can’t travel to feel the impact? If I can’t bear witness to all the generosity that flowed through my hands? That is what I am supposed to be doing.