Hanging from the Railroad Bridge

Date: 10/15/2016

By tomkhoward

Crazy dream. I was with a group of young people who like to hang out on some cliff ledge after beers in an evening. They invited me and I went with them, it sounded fun, but I found the climb alarming and scary! I am an experienced rock climber but the slabs were damp and greasy, and there was an overhang to reach the ledge. Oh, and no ropes. I felt great fear, be they seemed to have none. At one point I was hanging from the over hanging ledge trying desperately to find somewhere secure for my feet. They didn't so much laugh at me with ridicule, but with something I didn't understand, a knowing. Despite all, I reached the top of the ledge where I met the others. Some were climbing around or peering over edges without a care. The consequences of any accident would have been fatal. I couldn't understand. When it came to leave I realised the decent would be far worse. I hesitated as one by one they disappeared over the ledge. One stayed behind and kept telling me I needed to let go and not be controlled by my fears. It was like the film the Lost Boys when Michael is hanging from the railroad bridge with David. The first step over the edge was the hardest, but no sooner had I taken it when I felt a transformation in my thinking and suddenly began the decent with confidence and consequence free. When we reached the bottom, however, is when things became really weird. Suddenly all was not well. The ground started shaking and water started to spill over the cliff and to rise around us. We ran and climbed with great skill, very much like the elves in The Hobbit, hoping and skipping between rocks and leaping between gaps with complete confidence. Where had all this skill and confidence come from? It was in complete contrast to my earlier hesitant accent to the ledge. Now I was sure footed, whilst danger was all around us. The rising waters followed us, with a malevolence and menace. We were being hunted, an attempt by some intelligent force to wipe us out. But at the same time I felt elation and freedom. I would probably die and so nothing really matters. I leaped around and took great risk with no care of repercussion or consequence to my personal safety. It was so liberating. Finally, the group with whom I was with reached a point from which we could no longer escape the pursuing rising waters. We hid underneath some kind of structure or platform. Water rose around us, and I realised then that this was the end. I would drown. But my 'mentor' told me not to worry, that this was my last lesson. He told me to trust him. After all we had been through, I did. Or at least, I thought if I was going to die anywhere it was ok to die here. Water rose above us. I held my breath. He 'said' I needed to let go, to trust him. I finally exhaled and felt the last of the oxygen being used in my bloodstream. I didn't want to inhale. I held my breath further. Trust me, he said. I inhaled, I didn't have much choice. The water felt thick and uncomfortable filling my lungs, and also irreparable. There was no coming back from this. I tried to exhale. Nothing. I tried to inhale further. Nothing. My lungs were stuck. I panicked. But his look was calm and understanding through the murky depths. I tried again. It gave, there was still some resistance, but then it slowly eased. Suddenly, I was breathing water! We swam to safety. I was shocked, I had so many questions. Were we immortal I said. No, we were not. We all would die one day, he said, but there was nothing to fear. You shouldn't be afraid to live in the face of fear. Sometime after, I woke. I was exhausted and drained at the adrenaline of my dream, but satisfied. I don't think I will be climbing cliffs without ropes anytime soon. But I think there's a lesson in there somewhere. The imagination is a powerful thing!