I like mornings. No. I actually love them, crave them. The solitude, the stillness, the hushed black sky. Not so much when I actually have to talk to or engage with anyone. My zen can turn ugly in a nanosecond when someone disrupts my quiet. The other morning, a certain someone was talking in decibels that are not tolerated at such an early hour and for a good twenty minutes about Isis. Do I care about this right now? Can't I get some let's not talk at all especially about a serious topic my brain is not ready to ingest at 5 am?
But hey. Let's talk about dreams. Especially those that actually change the course of your life. Have you had the pleasure? I've had a few. Yes, yes, I've had those cryptic dreams where something came true the next day, and those are neat and all, but... there was that one dream recently that pushed my butt in the right direction. Those are the best dreams.
Recently I came to this conclusion that my lifestyle was destroying me. Well, I exaggerate a tad, but still. I became aware of all these things I was doing to sabotage myself, my health, my contentment. And I got pissed off. At myself. I remember telling my husband my thoughts and how I needed to change my habits and stop undermining my struggle to do better. The next day, I had this dream that my friend, Cam would chuckle at the sheer textbook psychology of it. It was all about spiders.
I was at a picnic in a secluded park with several people, mostly strangers. While sitting at a table eating my lunch, I began arguing with my brother, getting really heated and angry because he put his feet up on the table, right next to my food. The people next to us were staring at me because I was yelling at him to move his feet. At some point there seemed to be a scare that someone had been bitten by a venomous spider - and then that person died. I had left the picnic table to see what was going on with the victim and looked up to see hundreds of enormous spiders in the trees - like tarantula sized and ready to take over the world. Then one of them flew at me (yes, they could fly) and bit me on the neck, which meant I was going to die. I woke up.
I'm not one for nightmares and bad dreams usually. In fact, I'm a pretty lucid dreamer in that once a dream begins to go sour, or to a place where I can't quite handle, I become aware and I change the course of the dream or wake myself up. This one was only slightly nightmarish, but mostly it revolved around the psychological details. When I looked up spiders in dreams, I ruled out the dominant female thing and some other interpretations that didn't apply to me. What resonated for me was how they can symbolize your future, fear and entrapment. The spider's web can have subconscious association of weaving our own destiny and consequently being trapped inside it. Disagreeing with the "clingy relationship" side of it, I knew that ensnaring force was myself. The bite itself was a symbol of the peril I felt I'd put myself in.
I had already decided the night before that I needed to change. The swarming spiders and subsequent attack in my dream world only added to my determination. Since then, I made a lot of progress on those so-called unresolved issues.
And on a similar though totally different note, I've been working on the 3rd draft of my novel. This, too, fed into my spider dream. The fear of my future and feeling like I'm never going to finish this novel or that it's taking so damn long is like straight out of a textbook dream book. While I know I'm far from perfect and I understand that I'll make mistakes, one thing I can't tolerate about myself is a lack of control and self-discipline. This is certainly an ongoing process, but taking notes from the spider, I have to be patient and continue to build my web. I also have to have the conviction that it won't be long when I look up to see my intricately built web is finished and I've reached my goal. Then, I'll just have to build another.