There I was. Trapped between some old, wooden fencing, fearful of letting my bare feet touch the ground.

Just out of my corner of vision to my left, a young wolf cub. Off to my right, in the shadows of a pastoral trail, an innocent lamb.

Snarling inches away from my skin, one large wolf, teeth exposed and a pack of silver commrades circling. I see their frozen breath hit the cold air as they come in closer.

Miraculously, I find my voice. Low and weak at first, then growing louder. "Help." "Help me." "Help." People come from over the horizon, gathering in a crowd but despite my pleas, no one comes to save me. The more I plead, the more people arrive, the crowd growing more curious to see what is happening. 

I am frightened. I feel my chest tightening, my breathe becoming shallow while I continue to ask for help. But no one does anything. 

And just like that I wake up, a bit rattled and uncertain with this vivid dream still lodged in my memory. I am here. No worse for the wear. Not devoured, unharmed.

So, Dear reader, I am back. It has been some time and many, many things have transpired since my last bit of musings.

I am in transition. A beautiful one. One I'd hoped would one day come. Actually, it's been a series of small transitions but, no doubt I'm clearly in between such as my mind pictured me in this dream.

There are two versions of youth, innocence, the untouched. It is my past, my childhood, but my cleanness or blank slate as it were to start over with.

There are others, watching me, standing witness to me but not guiding or helping.

And then, there are the wolves. Thick-furred, beautifully frightening silver and white wolves. Are they my unknown manifested into something this dark and scary?

Perhaps. 

Transition is hardly easy but I find I'm loosing the grip on fear more and more now because I know there's something hopeful on the other side of fear. I don't think I could have said that had I not just survived the last 2 1/2 years of constant struggle and fear. 

So despite the trepidation of placing my bare feet onto this new, cold, snowy ground, I welcome this dream as a message, a reminder that I am not done. There is still much unknown to explore, still more uncertainty to put my faith in. 

And I'm okay with that. Truly.