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.