I haven't written in a while. Too long. So I'm back today in an effort to dump thoughts out of my head and, hopefully, out of my dreams.
I have always found it funny that we use the word "dream" synonymously with "goal". It lends to the definition that if we can think it, we can usually make it happen, which I believe is true. But real dreams, in the classic sense, are just fantastic little stories played out while we sleep. We cannot necessarily make them happen. Nor do we even want to.
I have recurring dreams. They're not the same story, over and over. Instead, they're of the same person (sometimes, but not usually, people) over and over. Usually, there is no real story to the dreams. Instead, my mind plays out a few select scenes from my life with this person. It's like a collage of photos thrown up on a wall, and I stand before it and mull it over while I sleep, trying to find some message in it all.
They started when I was pregnant with Nolan and, simultaneously, when my marriage was really getting rocky, although at the time I was in complete denial of that fact. It was very odd to me that I would dream of this person, this old friend, no more than a casual aquaintance, again and again, since they weren't someone I usually thought of or spoke to outside of my sleep.
And then life happened. And suddenly, a couple of years later and after divorce papers had been filed, the dreams came back with a vengeance. What they mean, I'm still trying to figure out. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just my subconcious trying to work out whatever it feels is unresolved. Maybe, on some level, I'm trying to create that resolution for myself in my sleep, and this person symbolizes something for me. Whatever it is, I'm tired of this process and I just want it resolved already.
While Ian and I lounged around Jeff and Renee's patio table with them at dinner the other night, Renee mentioned I have always been a very "determined" person. It came up when we were talking about how I once approached Eddie Spaghetti, singer for the Supersuckers, at a show at the Wetlands back in '93 (I think). I was about four drinks deep and chatted him up, trying to persuade him to literally give me his very cool t-shirt off his back. Renee smirked about my persistent nature. "You'd say, 'I want that' and go for it until you got it," she said. "You're not as intense as you used to be, but you're still focused."
Is such persistence a good thing? Sometimes drive is really just an effort to control. Sometimes it is out of sheer compulsion to improve, change, or distract ourselves. And sometimes, it's to pursue a dream, a goal, a thing some might label as one's destiny. But I don't believe in destiny, per se. I believe we create our own circumstances; we make our own luck. Ironic, though. My name, while Gaelic for Mary, is also the name of the three fates in Greek mythology.
My other dreams are straight-forward and conscious: I will write a book "someday"; I will complete nursing school and be an RN "someday"; I will complete my 500-hr RYT "someday"; I will go to India "someday"...and so on. Curiously, though, I have put all of those things on the backburner right now. While school would be a huge financial sacrifice at this point, the main reason I'm sidelining any big plans is time. I want to enjoy this time I have with my children and Ian at this point in my life. The past several years have been in flux, one way or another. They've been turbulent and transient. So rather than distract myself with yet another pursuit (and nursing school would keep me out of the house at least four nights a week, in addition to my full-time job), I want to root down, give all of myself to my family and to me, and simply enjoy some downtime to create, daytrip, roadtrip, and just "be".
And so maybe it's because I have chosen not to pursue anything new right now that the dreams have returned. Maybe...and how many times can I say maybe in a single blog?... maybe I feel a sense of being trapped when I choose to just focus on the now, so I escape in my dreams. Or it could be even simpler than that: when I'm less scatterbrained and full of thoughts and plans, space is created in my head so that it has energy to work out any unresolved issues--primarily when I sleep. And so, like a shaky limb in yoga that will wobble until it depletes its energy and essentially cleans itself free of any accumulated toxins in its muscle, my dreams shake and wobble the same old thought until it's finally gone for good.
I never did get Eddie's shirt. But I do have a cherished memory of that night.