This was a recurring dream. I was ballooning over Middle Earth. A friend's balloon drifted near, but instead of a basket, it dangled a cocoon! She was inside, with just her face showing. She was utterly still, and I worried she was dead. But she seemed to be only sleeping--waiting to transform.

She had curly antennae, so I guessed she'd wake with new-grown moth- or butterfly-wings.

The wind blew us toward a mysterious patch of mist curling up from a forest. Faintly I saw elf-towers rising in the fog... It was Doriath, an ancient kingdom screened by mist and illusion from the rest of Middle Earth! I wondered how its elf-king, Thingol Greycloak, would take the news that we mortals had hopped his spell-wall and wafted in.

The script is (Tolkien's) Elvish--the faint, hard-to-see motto on my balloon transliterates to

DORIATH OR BUST!

The inscription in the sky says "Fear not! She lives, transforming in her chrysalis. Patience!"

At the time, I was feeling truly stuck in my life. The dreams (two of them, linked) cheered me up a lot. For it helped to know my soul wasn't dying, or even stuck. Just... cocooning.

Metamorphosis takes time.

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