Monday, October 29, 2007

What of Dreams Come

Yes, I’m talking about actual dreams that you have at night, while sleeping.

This weekend I was at a workshop, my annual pilgrimage into myself for, what my best mate from Toronto calls: a tune-up for the soul.

I made some progress in revisiting a significant and painful childhood event. Anger welled up, cushions were abused, all around pain was wrought but mayhem was avoided by a hair’s breadth.

It’s a funny thing how bottled up emotion from an ill-conceived and ill-understood event comes out – or more accurately doesn’t come out – in one’s character makeup. My anger at that situation, in which ultimately no one bears fault, has been a source of energy for me. In fact it became an integral part of me for so many years. I’ve spoken of drawing on anger in previous blogs as a source of motivation for example.

But having dissipated some of that pent-up rage I was able to dream last night. The dream itself is now lost. I don’t dream all that often, and when I do I hardly ever remember what the dream was about, but I inevitably remember dreaming.

Such is the case this time. The memory of it is lost, yet the energy from it was positive and carried on until this morning.

I sat down at my computer and fired up my emails, as I often do in the morning. I concentrated on one, or rather it caught my attention first; an exchange I’m having with a friend from the mid-mid U.S. (from a geographical point of view). I’ve been talking with him about some of my latest and long past lost friendships.

As I was composing the email I realized that I was at peace. Some of his council combined with the energy from my dream yielded a decision about letting go and letting the chips fall where they may. This decision I was making still feels sound to me, and so then was my peace with it all. I wrote him that I would follow his advice and experience, partly as a contract I was making with myself to follow-through on my decision, I admit.

My mother has often said, and still does: “la nuit porte conseil” – the night is a good advisor. What this idiom fails to mention however is that the mind must be open to council and the next morning conducive to making it happen. Fate, serendipity, timing, whatever… my point is that I was serene and open, not calculating and focused, when my mate’s email popped into view. I was open to reading it with a fresh mind and my night’s dream advisory came into focus all by itself.

I made a few choices like that this morning. I am satisfied and even though I got into a phone-phight with Bell Canada about them fucking up my long-distance plan, I am still relaxed.

Then another friend of mine calls to check up on me. I was utterly delighted at the gesture and we talked a little bit about dreams and recalling them, and when they occur: write them down as soon as we wake up, even if it’s only a single word. The conversation was maybe three minutes in length. I felt good.

And then I thought, “man, I gotta write some of this down!”


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