Dearest Rachel –
Imagine, if you will a medieval castle as an opposing army advances against it. Standing among the battlements in defense are squads of archers, preparing to defend the keep against the impending onslaught. As they are stationed several stories up, they have the advantage of the first shot, since their arrows will carry farther than those being fired from the ground, and soon they do so as the aggressors venture into range. Their timing is perfect, as they score a number of hits; armored knights topple from their mounts, while various foot soldiers likewise faceplant into the ground.
A cheer arises from the castle, as noncombatants observe jubilantly that the approaching army has been bloodied. However, this is a mistake on their part, as the sound gives away their positions throughout the stone facade, and the remaining archers draw their bows as they come within range and fire at the castle. Now, perhaps some of them misjudge the range, while others strike the stone walls, and others are thrown off as they fire while in motion. But even with this reduced accuracy for any number of reasons, there are enough shots that find the sources of the exclamations and strike home in turn. It may be that, in taking out observers, the attackers neglect to remove those who would actually pose a danger to them; the fellows with weapons that continue to rain down upon them. On the other hand, they may also deal a blow to the defenders’ morale, as their more imprudent wives and children are cut down, due to announcing their presence. Whether the castle is held or overrun, there have been losses on either side in this battle already; no one survives unscathed.
I won’t quite say that this martial version of “don’t count your chickens” came to me in a dream this morning, honey, but I did wake up with this image in my mind, for reasons that I couldn’t begin to guess at. Sure, it’s good advice to not celebrate a victory before it’s gained, especially in a life-or-death situation such as this. But why should it embed itself in my mind, when it’s not really going to serve much purpose? I’m not engaged in any such event one way or another, and certainly nothing with such stakes to take into consideration.
Granted, it’s not as if dreams are supposed to mean anything – or even make sense – as you’d think I should have learned by now, but you know how it is. The human mind assumes that there should be patterns, there should be meaning, in everything, even though deep down, we know better than that. It doesn’t help that the lesson of not celebrating too soon is a worthy life lesson to keep in mind.
It’s just that… it’s not a lesson that needs to be learned right now. To the best of my knowledge, I’m not facing any battles to speak of – whether advancing upon, or defending against – and so I’m not in danger of premature jubilation at apparent success. Then again, I’m not on the verge of mourning what looks to be failure, either. If anything, the days are currently trudging one after another with little to distinguish them apart. And while there are days to come that will be vastly different to most, I’ve been trying to maintain equanimity about them; too much excitement before they had come to pass, and they might dissolve in my hand as I reach out to grasp them.
Maybe my mind is just processing an idea and attitude that I’ve already embedded in myself, and just created an analogy to buttress (if you’ll pardon the expression) the way I already think about potential future events. It’s kind of like patting myself on my own back for being so intelligent…
…except, now that I think about it, that’s almost like cheering from the ramparts in its own right. I’d best keep my head down, and a sharp eye out for arrows.
In any event, while I deal with this, I’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m pretty sure I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 