Dream Within a Dream, Part 1

[This is the first part of another two-part piece. It's written out of sequence because I wanted to write it to be critiqued with the class.]

Almost three years after I came home, the movie Inception arrived in theaters. If you’re a tasteless cinematic curmudgeon and have yet to see it, I’ll describe the ending for you. Don’t worry; if you still haven’t seen Inception, you probably never will.

Leonardo DiCaprio’s character, after years of hiding from the authorities, can finally come home. He’s just pulled off a subconscious heist aboard an airplane. Only ten hours have passed in the real world since the heist began, but much longer has passed for those who just fought their way through a dream world. Because of the success of the heist, powerful people have allowed him to step off the plane with a clean slate and start a new life. The entire final scene passes with a minimum of dialogue as DiCaprio’s Cobb awakens from the long dream aboard a plane and returns to both reality and his personal world.

I sat between two other returning missionaries aboard a Delta flight, unaware of how my return to my former life would mirror the final scene from one of my future favorite movies. Everything — teaching, tracting, black nametags, letters from home, camels, mud, Navajos, the rez — was behind me now, and I would never be returning. Oh, I might go back to New Mexico, but I would never return as a missionary.

The world I'd dreamed of for so long was before me, but the real dream was behind me.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back?” asked Elder Hillam, staring out the window.

“I honestly have no idea,” I said.

“Come on,” he said, prodding me with the pen he had been twirling. “You’ve spend the last two years telling us about Amy. Isn’t she going to be there?”

“I don’t know,” I said.