Wednesday, May 11, 2011
There I was, literally hamstrung by wires, around my stomach, across my chest, around my upper arms, not to the point of pain, but to a strong restriction in movement.
I was too embarrassed to ask anyone to get a pincers and to lift my shirt and release me from them. I knew I had to do it myself without any tools.
Meanwhile, I participated in life as best I could. I had a big blue handbag and inside the bag was my wallet and my change purse and they rattled around loosely in the bag which could have held a lot more stuff.
I found another handbag in a washroom that was crammed with all kinds of things: colourful scarves, jewellery, bling, money, camera, books, netbook, writing pads, colourful pencils and pens so I took it and hoped to find the owner but I was baffled as to where I would put up a notice and what information I would release. Red handbag found? There was no I.D. Anywhere on it. Anyone could claim it.
I went off to a family dinner in a very loud restaurant where everyone had shown up, from the tiniest baby to my old uncle of 95 (who died last week). The noise was deafening. I tried to find the owner of the red bag until someone said to me I was being foolish, the red bag had always been mine but I had misplaced it and then bought the blue one to replace it but was never happy with it. I sat in a big comfy chair and started working away (quite discreetly) on my wires which were intertwined but quite loose once the first one was untangled. I knew the one that was tied at my back would be a hard one to release but I rubbed up against the back of the armchair and worked away at loosening it.
It finally released and I slowly was able to unpeel all the wires from my body. I twisted them into a huge ball and held them out.
“Look,” I said, “I've finally managed it. And all by myself!”
And then I woke up.
I have learned more about myself and my current blahs from last night's dream than any therapy or textbook could possibly teach me.