A Restless Night's Dream

It is 2.08 am and I have just woken up from a dream... you could almost say it was 'Bottom's Dream' - methought I was an ass!
I was caught up in an audition for another Midsummer Night's Dream and it was quite intense as so many old faces were passing through and I was so aware of the immensity of the task of taking on even the smallest role in the play. It was getting close to going on stage and I had to wake up to avoid the worst. You were there throughout, besides me, supporting and encouraging me and warning me of the dangers of being too involved.
So I got up and went to the kitchen had a bottle of coke light and sat in the front room in my underpants - it was great as there is no one in the house to stop me tonight and then I just went through the list of plays we did. And as I went through them I remembered some of the peripheral stuff that was going on like the first night of 'As You Like It' when the next day you were going to be sent to prison! And all I could think was 'that must be untrue'. And then I started to think that nothing of our days in Ethiopia could be true. What we achieved and went through in 22 years was just too much to be true and like the psychiatrist on my HEAT training I just found it impossible to believe. So the only thing to do was to write to you - the only other person on the planet who might believe me.
I remembered that you had burnt my diaries when you evacuated. How symbolic an act. Cutting such attachments is an essential element of the Christian life. To hate ones mother, brother, sister, father, wife and children and to hate ones own life is difficult. Letting go of everything and dispelling the ego is no mean feat especially when it has to be done on a daily basis.
I enjoyed every one of those plays and every one of those people and I know it was my life. A gift from God to be savoured and cherished and it was my task to love everybody in my life - even those who set about to hurt us. And as for you. You did walk every inch of the way with me and I was so so blessed.
What happens next I have no idea. Will I get myself another part in the play or will I just watch in admiration of the players.
Shakespeare's line now makes so much sense
This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Then maybe I prefer Tennyson still;

but every hour is saved / From that eternal silence, something more, / A bringer of new things

Yes I will stick with that for now and trust that God has us both in mind for one last bash!