I lie supine in a field of grass. An elephant kneels in front of me and places its massive forehead on my chest. Its head to my heart, the elephant presses down. When I think I can take no more, it lets up. Yes, of course. They’ve told me this is a good elephant. But then it presses down again and I strain to see its rider because I know she has control … but the head is too big. Now I can hardly breathe, and the elephant seems to know because it slowly releases again. Good elephant. Don’t be afraid, Danette. The cycle repeats, and I try very hard to be brave, but I fail: the fear is what wakes me.

I had this dream after listening to Elizabeth Gilbert tell the story of how she began the journey that is the subject of her memoir, “Eat, Pray, Love”. She tells the story to inspire people to begin their own quests. In the telling, the elephant is an important symbol of beauty, joy, and ultimately, of fulfillment. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mc838mBhPO4

But isn’t it ridiculous to wake up at thirty-nine and decide to become a writer? Ludicrous to decide at forty-three to become a song writer? What if I started too late and my work simply isn’t good enough? Is this really a good elephant?