I had the greatest NYC dream the other night. Much, much better than my recurring dream where I find a new, previously unknown room in my apartment – I have that real estate dream all the time, and I know other people who do, too. That’s a great dream, right until you wake up.
No, in this dream, I was in a cab. And even though the cab driver asked for directions, I played with my phone instead. So far, so realistic. The cab made it onto my block – maybe even my own corner – so I felt done with the direction-giving and fell asleep in the backseat. When I woke up, we were on a wide deserted 4-lane highway, no longer in the city. “Where are we?” I groggily asked the cab driver & J, who’d joined us in the cab through dream magic.
And then I realized we were in Far Rockaway, because I’d told my driver to drive straight, and -- dream logic! -- if you do that, you’ll wind up in Far Rockaway. The road we were on stretched to the infinity point where shore meets sky. It was a road to nowhere; there was no land on any side of our taxi.
Because of global warming, the water was particularly high, and waves arched over, and crashed into, the highway like dissolving rainbows. It was beautiful. I had this overwhelming feeling that the three of us: me, J, and the cabbie, could stay there forever, watching the waves crash onto the highway.
I’m just realizing that in this dream, instead of finding a new room, I found a new part of NYC. Because although in my dream I was certain this was Far Rockaway, in reality, I've been there: this was no Far Rockaway. I sincerely hope this isn’t an accidentally revealing dream, inadvertently sharing you everything I wanted to keep secret about my inner-self. It was just the prettiest, most visually arresting dream I’ve ever had, and for weeks, I’ve been thinking about the road's lonely beauty.