My dream…

totally unrelated to anything yoga or cancer, but here goes...
I was in New York City. Living there, I presume.
It was a horridly gloomy and rainy day.
I was taking an acting workshop with Meryl Streep.
There were hundreds of people there. A large room with classroom style desks.
We sat there, attentive, listening to the living legend pontificate about the art of acting and living the dream.
On a break, Meryl, because that's what I call her now, pulled me aside to tell me about a new project that she was directing. She wanted me to play the lead. I accepted her offer like I would accept a latte. She handed me the script, no foam and I went to sit down and read the epic, cause that's what it was, in my dream.
I was to play a Russian peasant girl, believable.
I would have to cut my hair and dye it dark. Ok.
I would have to hire a coach. Check.
I would have to call my mother.
We resumed our workshop. The other students looked over to me with curiosity. I looked at a couple of other students that also had scripts, curiously. We whispered to each other. They had one line here, carried a parcel over there. I have the lead.
When the workshop ended the rain was still coming down. People in black came over to me to offer me schedules and information.
Then, I was alone. I sat on a banquet and called my mother. My dad picked up the phone. He said he was proud of me and handed me off to my mother. I told my mother and she said, she didn't believe it. Is this for real? Why, I asked, is it not out of the realm of possibility? Stranger things have happened? Even I, was surprised.
Can I handle the emotional content of the piece, by myself, even with the help of a coach?
Meryl thought I could. I know I can.
But I'm terrified and electrified.
I thought about myself at the Oscars.
I thought about the reviews panning me or telling me I was the new breakout star, in my 30's.
An overnightmare conflicted with
An overnight success. How many years, day, heartache I struggled waiting to get through the night and over it for this?
Success, feels good.
Failure seems, familiar.
Excitement is alive.
Just then, a man approached me to tell me it was time to go. I told my mom I would have to call her back.
I would have to brave the subway home, not a cab. I could barely afford the workshop.
The man told me that a car was waiting for me outside.
I get a car?
Just then, my alarm went off.
No!!
No, NPR, Obama, Pakistan. NO!
I wished for more sleep, more dream and the reality held within my closed eyes and subconscious meanderings.
Today.
Today, I was shooting a film.
An ultra low budget film.
An ultra low paycheck.
An ultra small part.
A super good script.
Today.
I knew I couldn't go back to sleep.
But, I was happy to move forward in awake.
Because my dream was still with me.