I had a recurring dream last night.
It’s the one where I’m back in high school (Go Raiders! Assumption College School) and I’m late for a class. Also, all my assignments are late or I can’t find them. There are hundreds of students around, uniform-clad, moving in slightly slow motion, and seemingly calm. Me, I’m chaos personified, and worry and fear too. I can’t find my way around even though I know I know the halls with my eyes closed. I feel complete panic and I search in my back pack for due assignments that I swore I put there only moments ago. I make it to class, sweaty and out of breath. People see me but don’t acknowledge me nor do they care that my assignment is MIA. I can see teachers but they can’t hear or see me, which makes it really hard for me to explain why my work isn’t done.
I woke up out of breath and unable to identify in my mind what day it was. I tapped my phone to see what time it was, and when the numbers said 2:49am or some too-early time, I closed my eyes and went back to sleep, but I still wasn’t sure what day it was.
When I woke up again, it was by sweet Pages licking my hand and whining so I’d get up and feed her and Oscar…let them pee outside. That was around 6:30am. I realized it was only Sunday with large relief. I went back to sleep after all the business was done and slept uninterrupted until 9am. I can’t remember if I had any dreams during that stretch.
So why the recurring dream? Well, for one thing, the ‘to-do’ list is super long these days. Even after crossing things off, new items replace them and I’m constantly time managing and weight priorities and actions. Plus, I’ll be back at my high school on Friday (yay!), so the actual place is on my mind for real life – not just dreams. Funnily enough, when I was in high school, I was more stressed and anxious than I am now. In high school, being busy was like a drug. I was addicted to intense involvement, over-achievement, and a pretty unattainable height of success. Thank you hindsight, inner-growth and aging for helping me unmake those old patterns of over-filling a plate.
My plate is definitely full – but I have learned how to take things bit-by-bit. To eat slowly and savour the food, if you will.
What are you reading?
I finished Fahrenheit 451 whilst in New York. It’s still on me like a burn. I turned to Ann Patchett’s ‘The Dutch House‘ for a new world to dive into. It’s pretty wild and mysterious.
After that, I have two books about trees that are calling my name.
Diana Beresford-Kroeger’s ‘To Speak for the Trees’. I know she was just in Windsor reading this book and sharing her extraordinary wisdom with us, but I wasn’t at the event. I’ve since been told by several friends that I must read this book. It’s on my nightstand.
The other book is called ‘The Overstory’ by Richard Powers. A writer friend suggested I read it.
My book plate is definitely overflowing!
It’s February. Today is Imbolc. A unique day to celebrate the midpoint between winter and spring. I think it’s also ground hog day…or it’s coming soon. Certainly, we’re in the ‘in-between’ of the seasons.
I hope that you’re enjoying the in-between. It can be a great opportunity for cleansing!
Here is a poem I wrote yesterday at the Poetry and the Body workshop at Gertrude’s Writing Room. The workshop was lead by Samantha Badaoa, Windsor’ Youth Poet Laureate. What a magical workshop it was.
I say no to eyes
there are too many poems about eyes
your eyes are your sexiest body part he says
I roll them out of my skull & catch them in the palms of my hands
they are slippery with stories
I heave them into the freshwater lake
hopeful they will find the mermaid they belong to