Going back to Rethymnon

Ocean Girl, always

Whether on the Mediterranean back in '86

Or the Pacific in '12

 For 20 years, I've had recurring dreams about returning to the village of Rethymnon, a small town on the island of Crete, nestled on the shores of the Mediterranean . I lived there for several months in 1986 and loved it.  But until recently, I didn't realize I've only had these dreams since moving inland to the Central Valley.  I grew up a beach baby, on the shores of another ocean -- The Pacific -- down in Southern California, so this is literally the farthest I've ever lived from the beach.  But I never thought much about it until recently.


And that's because of the dreams of Rethymnon.  The dreams have been heartbreaking, frustrating, and tormenting, and I never could understand what they meant.  In the dreams, I  am always trying to get back to that little Greek seaside village of Rethymnon, where the sand runs up into the hills, and the hills are covered with scrub oaks, cactus, grape vines and olive trees.  


In some dreams, I'm in London and realize all I have to do is get to the airport and hop a plane in order to be there.  More recently, I've dreamed I've actually been in Iraklion -- the largest city on Crete -- and know if I can just get on a bus or rent a car I can be in Rethymnon in less than two hours.  But I'm never able to make it happen, and I always wake up like Orson Welles in Citizen Kane, only I'm whispering "Rethymnon," not "Rosebud." 


And I know the dream is not about Rethymnon, either.  I loved Rethymnon, to be sure, but have never wanted to return there in real life -- it's been built up into a major tourist destination, so the Rethymnon I knew is gone forever.  So finally I started asking myself what the concept of "Rethymnon" represented.  Maybe it was a symbol for something else, some un-lived or under-lived part of my life that was crying out for attention.  Or was it something else?  Did it remind me of the beaches in Southern California, where I spent my first 30 years of life? I had no idea.


Yet oddly enough, with us drawing close to our move to the Central Coast, I've recently had two dreams where I was actually IN Rethymnon, jubilant at finally making it (especially after 20 years of trying to find a way there), and showing the family around the lovely streets, the seaside cafes, and along the steep hills covered with olive trees and grape vines.


Olive trees and grape vines.....ocean breezes...seaside cafes.  Yes, it makes sense now.  So often our souls are telling us they need to go home, and soon, but we don't realize that it doesn't necessarily mean our childhood home, or even the place we think it's telling us to go.


Home for me is a place near the ocean, where the sandy beach runs up towards the brown hills, covered with scrub oaks and cactus.  Inland, there are olive trees, grapevines and steep hillsides.  I never saw the connection between Rethymnon and Paso Robles and the Central Coast, but I do now. Sometimes it's more than handwriting on the wall.  Sometimes it's freakin' spray paint.


Memo to my soul:  Thanks for all those messages, which took me so long to understand.  I get it now though.  We're going home soon. Efaristo.