It’s all about the gefilte fish – apparently

Saturday night was incredibly stressful. I missed 4 separate flights. I ran through 2 different airports. I watched my planes leave without me. I walked out of security areas without my ticket or my identification—twice. I begged and pleaded with these big, old, tough as nails women that guarded the way back in. I searched and searched frantically for my computer because I had to write a post about gefilte fish.

When I woke up this morning, my main emotion was relief. Relief that none of that actually happened to me. My main action was soothement—I’m still rubbing my chest and telling myself that it’s okay, that I’m okay, that I’ve been through a lot. Even if it was only a mind game.

My main thought was and still is about the gefilte fish.

In this part of the dream, I was sitting in the airport in a booth, my arm slung over the back, talking to the women behind me. And they told me something, both wisely and cryptically. They told me that the answer was to be like the gefilte fish. Mind you, I have no idea what the question was.

They said that the thing about gefilte fish was this: someone took all of the best parts of a lot of different fish, rolled it into a ball (albeit oddly shaped) and put it into a jar where it was simply and brilliantly ready—all of that goodness—on demand.

I can think of a lot of other examples of this that aren’t quite as unappetizing—like Hootsuite and airplanes with wifi and WordPress and dresses that don’t need to be ironed.

But in my dream, the message was one of pure genius. It impelled me out of my gate and out of security without my ticket or ID to get to my computer so that I could write it down. In the dream, I decided to not even worry about the gate and security problem, so dedicated was I to engraving the gefilte fish message on my screen.

And it’s left me still thinking two days later. What are the ‘things’ from which I’ll be selecting the best parts? What will my ‘ball of fish’ look like? How will it fit into a jar? What kind of jar will it be anyway? And who will be happy that they can just reach in with their fork and get one of my gefilte’s, all rolled up and packed with everything they need?

I figure if I keep sleeping, I’ll get my answers. And hopefully, uncover that original question. Preferably before Passover.

Image credit: rachelkramerbussel.com