15 June 2006

Open futures

I thank you for all who gave me advice to ponder, words of encouragement and a plethora of experiences. I am always amazed at the support of bloggers and those new friends I have begun to develop life-long friendships. I am very thankful and blessed.

I have had the run of yuck these last couple months with jobs, school, family, finances. I have always at least attempted to expose the bright side, even the humorous side when it was seemingly non-existent. I see now the light at the end of the tunnel isn't a ravenous bear lighting a cook stove. It's the end of the tunnel streaming with light, punctuated with an open road ahead.

Last night, I had a dream that really symbolized what was happening in my life. It was almost as if God was saying that it was good for me to let go and go forward in life.

I typically have many dreams. Probably three to four times a week. Some some life-changing, some nightmares and some just plain old weird or that mean nothing. I dream in vivid color and have been told that is unusual. Feel free to chime in about the dream.

Remember though even Freud said, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar".

In my dream I found myself as I am now, 30+, an adult woman without Mr. Coffee and the kids. I was talking with my dad, as my sisters and my step-mom busied themselves nearby. They were eagerly packing their belongings in a huge truck as I argued that I wasn't leaving to go anywhere. They looked at each other quizzically with wrinkled noses at my protests. I was not as excited about this new house. I was told we were all going to live in it. In fact, 'I was going to love it'.

It was a house I lived in when I was young, so it was familiar to me, but not. The house was located on a dark, seedy side of a town, like Gotham and the outside looked decrepit and old. I knew that it was disgusting inside, dark and damp with no sunlight or fresh air. I suddenly found myself inside the house, protesting that I hated the place. It was foul smelling and reeked of moldy carpet.

"I'm not living here! This place is horrible.....disgusting...... and dark. What are you thinking?", I plead with my father.

The place was a nightmare.

Water sat in stagnant pools in the corners of the rooms completely covering the old tapestry-like carpet. Walls grey were they once were white. My eyes adjusted to see my father's eager face smiling, stealing a glance at my proud and beaming mother in a knowing kind of way. I walked through the rooms, staring at the tattered, thick curtains, although no light came in; the rooms staying a dark-greyish kind of green. Thin wallpaper peeled to the point where it would flutter to the ground from me simply walking by. The house was a shadow of what it once was. Lavish. Ornate. All gone.

I couldn't believe they wanted me to live there with them. It made me upset. Angry. I stood with my cell phone in hand and started for the door, "NO! I cannot and will not live here". I couldn't make a call to Mr Coffee for help.

My father got angry and started to block my way. My step-mom protested.

"You have to. You have no other choice", they both chimed.

My sisters looked at me as if I was crazy. Their faces held the question of "Why not? Isn't this lovely?".

I darted through the house looking for an exit. I was panicked. My eyes searched the room for escape. I noticed a loose floorboard in a closet and rushed toward it knowing I could get out. I found myself then squeezing into a tiny tube that led to the outside. I pushed my way through it and easily popped out to the outside. I looked back. I had come out what was really just a large black side door and not a small tube as I had seen it.

I started walking slowly at first. Then I quickened my pace while buildings and the regular bussle and afternoon fare of a busy downtown Portland popped out in all it's wonderful charm. The blur began to focus from a fog at first, then very clearly. Tall apartments, shops, the downtown scene settled my spirit and I started walking with confidence. Head held high. Happy even. I found my usual Starbucks Coffee and got in line to order. I was just thankful that I was back in 'normal'.

Weird, huh?

Photo credit: Tunnel3 by Duncan
copyright CC: BY-NC 2.0

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"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe