Stories from a life in progress.


Yesterday I wrote about discovering what my heart really thinks about going back to work, and overnight my brain had some more things to say about it. I don't think there's much use in detailed dream symbol analysis stuff, but I do notice that my dreams sometimes hint at more of what's going on in my emotional insides. Whatever lives in the mind is what it uses to make dreams, after all.

Last night I dreamed about a man wanting me to do a job, and not listening when I said I'd already done something similar and I didn't want it. He didn't listen and pulled me along toward where he wanted me to be. I broke away and hid in a crowd of people; when the people dispersed and I was found, I shouted and threw things at him -- for some reason I think I was throwing wool balls, and I took great pleasure at watching them bounce off his head and in the stunned look on his face. (Those balls have some mass, soft and squishy though they are. They'll sting at close range. I was really close to stupid-man.)

I'm passing over the nonsensical dream-details, already fading in my own mind, and remembering the core emotional story: I was being forced toward working at something that I vehemently did not want to do, and I was willing to scrap and fight and hurt someone in order to avoid doing it. That's the story that woke me up and kept me awake for a while in the middle of the night, thinking over the dream that told it to me. It's the story I'm still sitting up and taking note of this morning. My heart is very serious about not wanting to tread the hurtful path it's trod before. I have to respect that, even as I look for a path to lead me forward.