Tag Archives: dreams

On the internet, no one can hear you scream

This post is about dreams. I know, rule #2991480932 of the Internet: DON’T TELL ANYONE YOUR DREAMS. NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR IT. So, you’ve been duly warned. I’m going to talk about dreams.

Ivar's clam

I have had recurring dreams nightmares for pretty much all of my adult life. There are two themes. In the first one, I’m leaving on a trip. I get to the airport. I don’t have my passport. I’m always going somewhere that requires a passport. I don’t have enough time to get my passport before my flight leaves.

In the second type, I’m experiencing some kind of danger. It’s always vague, but present. I’m always paralyzed and incapable of getting out of harm’s way.

Except, something has changed. Several months ago I had the travel dream, right up to panicking about the passport. When I checked my bag, the passport was in it.

This morning I had the second dream. Except instead of being unable to flee, I got on my bicycle and rode up an insanely steep hill. And I stood up on my pedals (which I’m currently terrified of doing, because the last time I did that, when I was ten, I fell off my bike and scarred my knee for life).

Something has shifted, and it’s showing up in my dreams. I’m not so afraid of what the world is going to fling at me. So bring it on.

For those of you who read to the end, bless your hearts. To the rest of you, well, bless your hearts, too.

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The Key to Destruction

skull handles

I have intense, vivid dreams. They could almost be movies, they are so involved. I know, there is a rule somewhere that no one on the internet is interested in hearing about your dreams, so don’t share them. So, you’ve been warned. I’m going to tell you about a dream I had.

I was running down a stairwell, down down down. Running away from people who were chasing me. And in my hand I held an elaborate skeleton key. This wasn’t any old key. Oh no. It was The Key to Destruction. MY destruction. And in order to be saved, all I had to do was release the key. I merely had to open my hand and the people pursuing me would stop. But here’s the kicker. Do you want to know what this key unlocked? A small cupboard with a picture of Salvador Dali on his high school football team.

I often think of this dream, of how hard it is for me to release the clutching, the grasping, even when it might be destroying me. I was reminded of the quote: Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. I might amend that to: Pain is inevitable, struggling is optional. I am getting help in identifying these thought patterns that no longer serve me. I am holding the vision that I will open my hand and when I see my fingers curling back in, I can gently uncurl them again.

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