Posted at 06:31 PM in about me, dreams, photography | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)
For many years, the most commonly recurring dream I had was about me discovering a newborn animal or nest of newborn animals, usually by kicking or stepping on them. The setting was usually my bedroom or another room in whatever apartment I was living in at the time. I’d trip on the babies, and then I’d be both shocked that there was a nest of babies I somehow didn't realize was there and also horrified that I’d squashed them. In my early twenties I also started having a recurring dream that when I looked in the mirror, I saw a glimpse of something in my eye, and upon looking closer in strong light I saw the face of an embryo, sleeping restlessly where my brain ought to be. In my early thirties there was a new dream. I would discover a baby in my midst, usually by accidentally injuring or neglecting the baby. And suddenly I'd realize that I was babysitting but had somehow forgotten. Sometimes the baby was maimed. Sometimes the baby was dead. Sometimes during my shock and horror at finding one frozen baby in my car, the babies would multiply into a ten frozen babies. In my mid to late thirties, a new dream took its place. I began to dream about a fetus inside of its mother, restless and anxious, afraid to be born, not wanting to be born. I haven’t had one of those dreams in a long time. I never thought the dreams were literal. I am an excellent aunt and babysitter. A couple of years ago, I ended almost five years of both individual and group therapy. My therapist had a theory about dreams that made a lot of sense to me, and it has since deeply affected how I think about the human point of view. Her theory was simply that in many dreams you play every part yourself. Every person represents some part of you. She made an educated guess that I wasn’t caring for myself the way I should, that I was neglecting my vulnerability, that I was hurting myself by continuing on the path even after discovering this. I’ve made changes in the way I treat myself and in how I respond to others. Though I’m quite sure I have many more changes to make, lately I feel peaceful in a way I don’t think I ever have. Last week I thought about the possibility of having a child of my own. Though that idea is something I have always felt strongly ambivalent about, I felt differently about it. I’m not sure if I will have a child, but I do feel sure this means I am ready to explore some things I have never explored. There is a yearning in me to understand. In May, I’m going to be forty years old, and while I don’t put much emphasis on age in my life, it does feel like a crossroads of sorts. I feel like all my potential paths are good ones. I feel like I have been walking many paths in my life and instead I want to walk one path, and I need to be fully present on that path. The love between a mother and child has always seemed like something wonderful and amazing and yet out of reach, and for good reason. That love is something I have always felt other people can have or understand, but not me. That love has been terrifying to me personally, in my relationship with my own mother, which has been rife with issues of ownership, invisibility, fear of loss, intrusion, abuse, sadness. And yet other things. In the past couple of years I’ve begun to have a relationship of sorts with my mother. Maybe for the first time since I was a wee babe. This kind of love is so tangled up in my heart and head. I have some sorting to do. This is one of those times when I need to find those ignored, intertwined parts, gently untangle them, dust them off, and understand. In a way it seems like I’ve already been there and done that, but I also know I’m different now. I have different questions. I will learn new things. I think I’m ready, but I need to take baby steps. |
Posted at 07:00 PM in about me, dreams, feeling, photography | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBack (0)