I had the packing dream again.
In this dream I am usually somewhere, packing. In a hotel room, in an airport, sometimes, not often, at home. The surroundings change but the gist of the dream is always the same: I have to pack, because I am leaving soon, but there isn’t enough time and I can’t get the things organized. People check in on me from time to time, but they never help. Does no one else see we are late for the damn plane??!!
This dream is happening with increasing frequency and, honestly, it’s getting a bit old.
So, today, I decided to sort this shit out. I took to my journal.
Every morning since July, I’ve started the day by writing three pages of long hand. I was compelled (well, instructed) to do so as I worked my way through the Artist’s Way. I haven’t missed a day. Before call, before office, after being up all night, the pages always get done. It’s not a perfect practice, don’t get me wrong. Remember, I have kids and three jobs and somehow I am determined, in the midst of it all, to become ‘a creative’. When I first started, I’d get up early, light a candle, put on some gentle music, and write away without distraction. That lasted a full 48 hours. Now sometimes I need to braid hair, clean up cat puke, do the laundry, or just doom scroll my phone or the news for a bit before I start. Sometimes I rush out the pages in 30 minutes because I’m late for three things at once. Sometimes they take me three hours because I seek every distraction possible while I do them. But, hey, that’s life. The point is, they always get done and they must have worth as it’s been rare that it has been so easy to maintain a habit.
Anyway, this morning, the pages were for dream shit-sorting. What was it, precisely, that I was feeling and doing during these dreams that came night after night.?
The feeling was easy; I was feeling rushed, anxious, a little fearful, and a little resentment. Despite packing for a presumed journey, there was no excitement at all. And it’s COVID people!! All I want to do is TRAVEL!!
The details of what I was doing and where were more interesting. In none of the dreams was I ever packing my own things. They were always someone else’s things. Also, I never ever knew where I was rushing to get to. I never ever let the dream go long enough to find out what (or where), exactly, it was that I missed.
Not enough time. Missing something important. Unable to organize chaos. Doing the work of others instead of my own. Unknown destinations. Fear of the journey ahead. Anxiety and hurry …
Ya, ya, ya, I know, Jung and Freud could have a little field day couldn’t they?
So, what to do?
When I was a kid I used to have a recurring dream about being in a car in the driver’s seat. But, I was kid, I didn’t know how to drive. Help! Mayday!! One morning I woke up and said to myself, “Well, duh, just get out of the car. You don’t need to drive it.” Dreams stopped.
What’s the ‘get out of the car’ equivalent to my current dreamland conundrum? Could it be that it is not only up to me to make sure that others have the clothes they need wherever it is we are going? Could it be that I can just pick up my own bag and get on the damn plane? Could it be that I can just say “no, we are not leaving today folks, you need to get your shit together first”? Maybe if I just put the suitcase down, grab their hand, and calmly walk through the gate, I’ll get to see where it is I’m on a journey to?
I dunno Carl, what do you think?
He thinks I might be onto something.
xo J