I Dreamed a Scary Dream
When I woke up this morning, I had a bit of a dilemma.
A famous local writer had written to me. The note had been passed to me by one of my friends. They said, "Oh dear, you must have upset him. What did you do?"
For the life of me, I couldn't work it out. But then, I know me and tact are nary bedfellows. Or strange ones. Or strange naries... whatever the expression is.
I had to put the note away and get on with work. I went to bed, had strange dreams and woke up wanting to see the note again. When I read it, I was much relieved. It seemed that rather than being acutely displeased with me, said writer had actually taken note of my existence, only he regretted he was not able to help and advise me perhaps in the way I might have wanted. He had different rooms for different sorts of people, was how he put it, and he just didn't know where to put me. He also expressed that I didn't seem able to abandon myself fully to my creative side and was full of self-censorship. I paraphrase...
Anyway, I woke up before my alarm this morning and my dilemma was would it be right to share this with anyone.
About ten minutes later I realised none of it had ever happened. There was no note. I was a bit disappointed by this, even though it had caused me some distress and self-doubt.
But, this is what dreams are for. The filing and sorting of things. You don't need a dream dictionary and you don't have to look for symbols. I interpret my dream thus: maybe I am censoring myself, but the likelihood is I'm actually worrying more about how I come across, and this affects my relationships as well as my work. Remarkably though, I feel a lot less anxious than I did.
A famous local writer had written to me. The note had been passed to me by one of my friends. They said, "Oh dear, you must have upset him. What did you do?"
For the life of me, I couldn't work it out. But then, I know me and tact are nary bedfellows. Or strange ones. Or strange naries... whatever the expression is.
I had to put the note away and get on with work. I went to bed, had strange dreams and woke up wanting to see the note again. When I read it, I was much relieved. It seemed that rather than being acutely displeased with me, said writer had actually taken note of my existence, only he regretted he was not able to help and advise me perhaps in the way I might have wanted. He had different rooms for different sorts of people, was how he put it, and he just didn't know where to put me. He also expressed that I didn't seem able to abandon myself fully to my creative side and was full of self-censorship. I paraphrase...
Anyway, I woke up before my alarm this morning and my dilemma was would it be right to share this with anyone.
About ten minutes later I realised none of it had ever happened. There was no note. I was a bit disappointed by this, even though it had caused me some distress and self-doubt.
But, this is what dreams are for. The filing and sorting of things. You don't need a dream dictionary and you don't have to look for symbols. I interpret my dream thus: maybe I am censoring myself, but the likelihood is I'm actually worrying more about how I come across, and this affects my relationships as well as my work. Remarkably though, I feel a lot less anxious than I did.