🐢The Snapping Tortoise That Defied Everything
The dream began at my parents’ home where a gathering of some sort was taking place. There were lots of children of various ages running around, and I distinctly remember my boyfriend’s daughter Keyra being present. It was summer and the gathering of family and friends taking place was very casual and comfortable. It was the kind of gathering so relaxed and engaging that people just drift into your orbit — a friend of a friend shows up, and next thing you know, everyone’s crashing for the night. As the gathering drew to a close, I began pulling blankets from here and there to settle the kids and they flung themselves about truly making themselves at home. Strangely, I knew it was night, but it was bright as day.
Just then I spotted a small tortoise. My parent’s yard is often full of turtles, but this was in the house, and it was clearly a tortoise, not a turtle. This tortoise had an unnaturally tall shell — like it was built for something different. I gathered the kids who hadn’t settled yet to observe this strange creature. They marveled. As we talked the tortoise continued to turn its head and walk toward each person who spoke. I said, “This tortoise is acting sentient — like it knows we’re talking about it.” The words were still in my mouth when it whipped its head in my direction and rushed toward me with incredible speed. I jumped back. It watched me, followed me, and then bit me and refused to let go. I was so puzzled. Why was this tortoise acting like a snapping turtle? I was aware of the bite, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as I expected it to. I walked to the front door with the turtle dangling from my arm. As I tried to peel it off, I accidentally injured it, or maybe it already was — one of its limbs or maybe its head dangled, barely attached. So I paused and waited until I was outside to make another attempt at releasing the… snapping tortoise? Honestly, I’m not sure what else to call it.
The release took some effort and when I finally set it down, it turned… and again moved toward me with such speed that I recoiled and fell on my butt. It was unreasonably, alarmingly fast for a tortoise! I ran inside and closed the door quickly behind me. I turned to spy on it through the window beside the door, and to my amazement, it was climbing a tree, not just with its feet, but also pulling itself along with its teeth!
Yes, a tortoise. Climbing. A. Tree.
And I just stood there, stunned — like I was watching a sacred omen with a side of surrealism and a dash of “what in the shell is going on here!?”
🎭 The Theatrical Threat
I recovered from the shock of watching a sentient snapping tortoise climb a tree and turned back to get the rest of the children settled, but I was interrupted— aggressors of some sort with odd looking weapons were silently sneaking into the house. I slipped by them and back out the front door. I observed them from a short distance. Their weapons were nonsensical—a bizarre assortment of objects morphed together—a tangle of lawn equipment and household items. I had the odd sense that this had occurred before and everyone was fine. My feelings were a mixture of “Act! Do something!” but also, “There’s nothing to worry about.”
I circled around the back of the house while seeing and hearing things that resembled real violence. It was surreal, dangerous, but also… theatrical.
I reentered the house through the lower level on the back side of the house where the children slept and I quickly and quietly roused them. They didn’t seem afraid or alarmed. They just sprang into action fighting the emerging figures wielding odd weapons.
I heard yelling from the yard, so I took off outside once again.
⚔️ Space Weapons & Tiny Desks
I ended up in the driveway with a younger male English teacher I work with and a friend of his. We were grappling. I was unarmed, outnumbered, and dodging a weapon that made no sense. It looked like someone had ripped parts off the International Space Station and said, “Here, duel with this.”
It was intense… until suddenly it wasn’t.
My parents drove up, hopped out of the car and started a totally casual conversation with us as we dueled. My co-worker and his friend started laughing and lowering their weapons like the whole thing was a big joke. Before I knew it, we were both flat on our backs in the driveway, laughing. My head rested on his arm — a full-on post-battle cuddle. I didn’t know why we were laughing, but it felt real — like we were old friends sharing a moment. His galactic weapon laid at his side, and it had split open. He reached into his broken weapon and pulled out…
A tiny paper desk?
He laid it gently on my chest. I stared at it, stunned… and then we both cracked up all over again.
“Wait, it gets better,” he said, and then he proceeded to reach into his weapon and pull out dozens of tiny office supplies the size of my fingernail. They were impossibly fragile, and he laid each one of the tiny trinkets delicately, almost ceremonially, on my chest.
“The canister of keyboard air spray is my favorite,” he said as he handed it to me.
I sat up slightly and leaned over him to get a better look at his Mary Poppins-meets-space-junk weapon. What I saw inside the weapon’s hull were individual compartments brimming with paper office supplies.
This was his arsenal. Paperwork.
🧠 Symbol Soup (Because My Subconscious is a Weirdo)
- The snapping tortoise:
He broke all the rules. Tortoises symbolize patience, wisdom, protection, and longevity, but this one was not patient, it was fast. It was not wise, but rather sentient and defiant. He didn’t protect me, he bit me!
The tortoise defied all my expectations. I expected slow and grounded, but I got fast and feisty! Rather than ancient wisdom, I got evolved wisdom. I get the sense that my inner teacher is no longer content to whisper in the background. It would rather chase me up a tree while yelling, “We’re not doing it that way anymore!” Something within me is clearly trying to capture my attention and let me know that whatever I expect, it’s not going down that way. The message of this tortoise: “I love that you thought I’d always wait quietly… but surprise, bitch, I run now.” - The “attackers”: Absurd to the core. Perhaps they represent external pressures, judgements, outdated systems, and past influences that once felt dangerous, but now feel more like background noise — easy to navigate if I trust myself and those I love. While the “battle” was evident, the energy was intense, but I never truly felt that anyone was in real danger.
- The coworker fight that turns to laughter: Conflict with someone who “speaks my language” (English teacher) that dissolves into intimacy and shared absurdity. The fight reveals not rage but tiny systems of order and attempts at control. Maybe some conflicts I’ve perceived as threatening are actually attempts at organization in disguise?
- Tiny paper supplies: Perfection. Bureaucracy in microcosm. The weapon becomes a harmless, delicate filing system — as if to say, “This isn’t war. This is just poorly managed communication and the illusion of order and control.”
✨The Final Sip:
This dream walked the razor edge between danger and delight. I was the protector, the strategist, the one who ran toward the chaos to gather the children and face the absurd.
And in the end?
The real enemy wasn’t violence — it was the comical, theatrical illusion of threat.
Even the tortoise, in all its biting weirdness, just wanted to follow me, climb with me. My attackers shared a laugh with me. I think this was my subconscious’s playful way of saying: everything is absurd, nothing is what it seems, and that is precisely the point.
Honestly, I have to hand it to my subconscious. The symbolism, the set design, the slow-burn comedy arc — 10/10, would dream again.
Cosmic Tea 