The ballet of my little girl dreams
was pink and soft and elastic.
The ballet of my little girl dreams
was idyllic, real and lasting.
The ballet of my grown-up dreams
is harsh and cruel and tight.
The ballet of my grown-up dreams
is what will never become might.
I’ve always been afraid of you,
since you first terrorised my dream,
sank your teeth into my innocent forearm,
leaving droplets of freckle blood.
I always leapt onto my childhood bed
knowing you lay beneath,
ready to reach out and swipe with a paw
any sign of vigilance weak.
The cool of your eye made me fear my blue
avoiding it as alien to me.
Better my red, to warn you off,
keep me safe from your knowing prowl.
And yet you haunt my waking life:
on your hind legs now, you smirk at my work.
As if you can’t bear for my truth to break free
you keep me caged in your mockery.
If you were my friend, I’d keep you my pet
to bite at my enemies instead.
Yet that’s what I let you do to me:
keeps me superior, smug, lonely, apart.
Wolves are meant to hunt in packs
so why did I get you alone?
Why are you lost, tormenting me so?
Do wolf and go howl at the moon.
(pic courtesy of nixxphotography/freedigitalphotos.com)
I hate this dream. It encapsulates everything that’s wrong with my life. I’m obsessive about time, fearful of being late, and I have to arrive an an airport well before check-in opens or I literally shake with anxiety.
So having this dream about having to pack my case quickly and run to the airport because the flight is going to leave truly feels like a punishing way to spend my sleep time.
My recurring dream about being late for a flight indicates there’s something pressing I’m not dealing with. (pic: istockphoto.com/ViktorCap)
The big issue is that I keep having this dream. And that means it’s trying to tell me something. I think this goes beyond being obsessed with time, which is something I’m conscious of. I know that time obsession is a thinly veiled death anxiety, as any existentialist will tell you.
No, I’m wondering what this stress dream is really trying to tell me. Carl Jung said: “The dream is a little hidden door in the innermost and most secret recesses of the soul.” My job is to interpret what that dream means by trying to find the key to unlock the door to whatever secret my soul is trying to communicate with me.
In the one last night, Continue reading
I’m in the relaxed, peaceful surroundings of the Norfolk Broads, on a comfortable enough boat, enjoying calming scenery and invigorating fresh air, and taking advantage of precious early nights.
Except something happens to my inner world when all is calm outside: my creative imagination takes over in my dreams – and not just its benign aspects, either. In fact, I’ve noticed that when all my physical, mental and emotional needs are taken care of during the day, and I’ve got nothing to worry about at all, then all my fears creep out while I’m asleep.
The dream I had last night let all my anxieties out of their trap, and Continue reading
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