Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Coliseum

Another Dreamscape.
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Escher-Stairs.  Only it was expanded to the size of a coliseum.  They were all wood, like wooden jungle gyms you’d find in a playground.  I had navigated my way through this chaos and found myself exactly where I wanted to be.  I stood at the edge of the body of water that sat at center of the coliseum.

My sister was nearby, standing inquisitive, a look on her face that said, “hey, wait, why are you doing that?”.  I didn’t say anything but I knew while navigating through the maze that I was to find a spot where I could jump into the water.  I felt I needed to perform some fantastically flamboyant jump to prove to my sister that this, this was the way to be.  It was just better if she could jump like I was going to.

As I looked into the water, I saw a dock located directly in my jumping lane.  For the life of me, I could not figure out how to jump around it or move it.  I desperately wanted to jump in to show my sister how to do it, because I knew if I did, she would be better off.  But, I could not jump in.

What I got from her next was a mixture of incredulous inquiry, why are you doing this, for what purpose, she seemed to ask.  One word ended up repeating in my mind’s eye: hope.  I conveyed this to her, but, while she didn’t actually say anything, I could feel deceit from her, that she had tricked me.

I was shocked.  Then I was awake.

I talked to my therapist about this dream recently.  He hypothesized that the water was my subconscious as water tends to indicate this idea in general.  He praised me for finding my way through the Escher Stair maze and finding the spot where I was to jump in.  He postulated that I wasn’t ready yet, indicated by the existence of the dock which seemed immovable.  However, when he asked me if it was permanent, I said no.  I remember that the dock was buoyed, but I still could not figure out how to move it.

Initially, I thought my sister was representative of my sister.  My therapist suggested that my sister was also an extension of me as dream-entities sometimes are.  I think both of those ideas are accurate.  My sister was indeed my sister whom I was attempting to show how to live better, to dive deeper into herself.  At the same time, my sister was me, and I was trying to show myself that it was good and right to dive deeper into myself, into my subconscious.  In both cases, I was blocked by a barrier that was self-placed and I was the only one to move it.  It was a really good session.

Friday, October 12, 2012

The Intersection

The intersection of transition and old behaviors is a lonely place in my opinion.  It’s where I currently sit, idling.  And that’s the rub, I’m idling, in neutral.  Ahead of me is what appears to be an insurmountable incline pockmarked with craters, evidence of landslides and fires.  At the peak of this behemoth is a sungold halo, sparking crystalline rays outward.  I can barely make it out – it’s miniscule and the glare damn near blinding, but I can see it.  It’s Something Better.  I know it.  I look again in front of me.  I feel the air release from me like a balloon.  I deflate some.

What a climb, I think.

Behind me, I can see clear across the horizon.  No craters.  No hills.  No landslides.  No fires.  No Something Better with the halo and crystals.  I’ve been there before.  I know where it leads.  And that’s what draws me in: I’ve been there before, it’s familiar territory.  I’m at a point where I’ve got to decide: what was versus what could be.

Face the insurmountable.
Or ride the familiar roads.

Therein lay one of my life’s greatest challenges.

I was driving to a recent therapy session and caught scent of my hand.  I’d just been cleaning with bleach thus, my hand emanated a fleshy chlorine smell.  I was brought back to high school when I damn near smelled like that all the time since I spent all winter and all summer in the pool, swimming for sport and swimming for pleasure.  I thought of those times, and in particular the team for which I swam and felt lonely. 

Did it stem from me “missing” how many people I used to surround myself with in order to fill some undefined void?  Or was it a small realization that even then, there was no one that really cared about me.  I was alone, though I wasn’t actually alone.  Rather, I was lonely, though I wasn’t actually alone.  I’m concerned about the first thought I had – that the loneliness I felt was a result of missing whatever environment I was in years ago.

At present, I’m fighting myself to be closer to my wife, to my kids.  I behave in ways that prevent true and sustained intimacy, that prevent true and sustained relationship growth.  This is my war.  The war with myself.