Monday, September 7, 2015

Trying to Get Back Home

I dreamed again of the maze. I was outside, making my way slowly along a narrow strip of earth to get back to my car or destination, and I sort of remembered having come this way before and knowing I would have to go back along this narrow track. I had to be careful not to slip off the ridge into the muddy water below.

The “road” curved around to the left beside a swamp and I couldn’t see on the other side so I had no idea whether I was going the right way or not, and no idea if my cautious care in making my way along this dangerous ridge would be in vain or if I would have to retrace my steps and find another path. I paused, trying to decide whether to plunge ahead or turn back and see if I could find someone to help me.

This seems to be my theme in life. Being lost. Not having a clear or safe path. Not knowing what is ahead.

I have dreamed this same dream again and again. Sometimes I’ve parked on a sharp incline and I have to make my way through underbrush with sticks piled up in impossible piles to be navigated, and sometimes I'm climbing on a mountain over sharp rocks with slippery sides.

I sometimes wonder why I end up in these rural places where there are no clear roads. I sometimes wonder why I am there. Usually I have come with other people, sometimes to a workshop or class. And somehow the other people have no trouble with these obstacles, and I end up feeling inadequate and stupid.

Other times the dream happens in a city where familiar streets are suddenly unfamiliar, and I find myself lost after coming out of a building and going on a route I usually take. Everything is different and I'm in a different part of the city with no idea how to get back.

There’s no real answer to this today. I’m just the recorder. Maybe if I go to a quiet place and rest and think, some further insight will come to me. Maybe it’ll all be clear. Maybe it’s just plain obvious to someone else. Feel free to leave a comment.

I can’t put this into poetry today. It’s too raw.


Brenda Clews said...

Having no answers is surely the best way. And Unknowing the best way to understand. Also, these dreams, somehow very Buddhist- at the heart, existence, where is not as important as simply being.

Love this entry, Stirling! Beautifully written....

Stirling Davenport said...

Thank you, Brenda, for seeing through this to a more transcendent core. It is your genius and unique vision that always informs your own work. So even more do I appreciate your attending to mine.

Jan Hersh said...

I don't think you're lost in your dreams because you are aware of your surroundings and your fear and uncertainty. Perhaps those dreams are simply traveling and searching dreams. Writing about them must be therapeutic. Reading your account was like watching a "thriller" kind of a film. I think we all have fear of losing our way and coming to harm.

Stirling Davenport said...

Jan, I feel the same way. Even reading about dreams (my own or others') is exciting. It's always an adventure. Finding the themes is also fascinating. And maybe in this case, it really is universal. Paths and roads are all relative (unless perhaps you're a deer). (smile)