Last night, I lay awake dwelling on the scale of Earth’s problems. If we could just put away petty tribalism, I thought with tears dampening my pillow, we could see the common humanity that unites us. When I finally did fall asleep, I had a dream so inspiring I feel compelled by a force greater than myself to share it.

I dreamt of a world of peace. Of unity. I dreamt of a world, where people of all nations, races, and creeds forgot their differences and grabbed hands with, randomly, my middle school gym teacher. But it totally felt normal that she was there, if that makes any sense?

In this dream, everyone decided to put away their weapons. They laid them in a verdant meadow, and where the guns were placed, flowers grew. From beyond a soft rolling hill, marched all the people of the world as one family alike in diversity, and together we grabbed hands with, get this, Mrs. Rodriguez from gym class, which is crazy ‘cause I haven’t thought of her in, like, 20 years at least. But she was fully, just, like, there grabbing hands with the people of the world and singing a hymn of peace. So bizarre.

In my glorious vision, the hymn of peace that all people sang was in such perfect harmony you could see it in the air, the music a brilliant golden shimmer that floated up to the sky. The only discordant note came from Mrs. Rodriguez who wasn’t singing but was actually shit-talking my friend Mikhala from college. And Mrs. Rodriguez would have no way of knowing her, obviously. But in the dream, Mikhaila, Mrs. Rodriguez, and I were, like, a friend group. Weird, right?

As my hand joined with Mrs. Rodriguez, she became a conduit for the profound love I shared with the infinite throngs of humanity to which I was now connected, even though I totally remember that when Mrs. Rodriguez taught us sex-ed, she would refuse to say the word “masturbate” and that definitely created an unhealthy thing for me down the line.

The dream was so vivid it felt more real than life. I swear, when I woke up it took me a few minutes to realize that all wars hadn’t really ended, and it took even longer to realize that Mrs. Rodriguez was wearing my current boyfriend’s shirt. Where did she get that?

I was also attracted to her, in a way I kind of remember feeling, like, maybe romantic? But I’m going to analyze that right now.

Wait, this is so embarrassing, but it’s just coming back to me that the hymn of peace that emerged from the mouths of all creation did have the melody of Fun’s “We Are Young.” And actually, come to think of it, the impossibly green meadow where our leaders signed a global peace treaty on a floating parchment scroll was a mix of my childhood backyard and the grass from the 1998 animated movie ANTZ.

But regardless of the details, come morning, I awoke from my dream determined to make this utopia a reality. The first step to a better world, a peaceful world, is to come together as one. So I say to you now: May we join our hands, unite our voices, and pool our heads together so that we may remember Mrs. Rodriguez’s first name to Google if she’s still alive.

For what is a dream but a reality to come?

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