metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dreams 101 - a prerequisite I remember dreams I had as a child. Things that interested me and I wanted to do and be. I also remember what was said to me about those dreams, when I shared them. Let's just say there was not a lot of positive feedback. I think it is important to reflect on each and see if I have been carrying them like little pieces of gold that no on else appreciated but me. I defend them while at the same time believing they are unworthy. I believe I have been holding onto them because no one liked them but me. I feel sorry for my poor little dreams. They are no longer dreams, per se, but they are precious just the same and it is hard for me to discard them. It will be like admitting that everyone who disparaged my dreams were right. It is hard for me to say out loud, "you are no longer useful or viable and you must go so I can move on." I will become full of invalidated dreams. The amazing woman made up of invalidated dreams. I will make a big pile of these dreams and have a bonfire and watch them waft away. A nurse. I wanted to be a nurse - way, way, way back. I think it was the first of my wannabe's. It was said to me, "Why do you want to be a nurse? Why don't you be a doctor, instead?" My dreams were never big enough, or good enough. So much for being a nurse. It was not good enough. I really did not want to be a doctor. That scared me. But being a nurse, I could take care of people. I could make them feel better. I could have cool hands to put on their forehead when they were sick. (I am starting a list right now of things I wanted to be, or dreams I have had. I will really burn them. It will give me something concrete and help my focus. At least I think it will.) Teacher. I wanted to be a teacher. This was about the same time I wanted to be a nurse. "Why do you want to be a teacher? "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach." Being a teacher wasn't good enough. How stupid I was for having this dream. I must not be good enough to even dream if this is all I can come up with. Cowboy. I wanted to be a cowboy and ride horses and camp out and sing songs. (I was a BIG fan of Hopalong Cassidy). "Don't be silly. There aren't any more cowboys. That was a long time ago. Besides you live in the city. And, you are a GIRL. Girls can not be cowboys." Well, fuck. I really did want to be a cowboy. That is the last thing I remember wanting to be for a long time. That's enough reflection for one day. It was a difficult exercise. Besides, the present is calling. The present is calling, but my son is not. My son has not called me in weeks. He is in love with a girl who is bi-polar. She is a wonderful girl. I love her too. He is great and says it only means she has two poles. That's my boy. But I worry because it also means it throws another ingredient into the relationship soup. And, relationships are hard enough without any other complication. I wish them both well. I just wish he would call. When he doesn't call it means he is either very, very happy or very, very sad. I will go with very, very happy. And try to quit worrying. Although I do it rather well and am very creative with it. Perhaps I could be a professional worrier. 9:43 a.m. - 2003-03-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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