You may call me a dreamer

Years ago I belonged to a Dream Circle led by a female shaman and spiritual director. This was during a period of my life when I dreamt a lot. It had taken me a long time in therapy to get over my skepticism and the stereotype of 'lie on the couch and tell me your dreams.' Eventually I got used to talking about my dreams, to accept that there were no right or wrong interpretations and that it wasn't up to others to tell me what they meant. I came to understand common themes and threads in my nightworld and that dreams were one tool to help me make peace with my past and problem solve my present.

I know this may sound rather new-agey and mystical, but it was fascinating, helpful and connecting. In the circle, there were maybe 10 active church-going women of varied ages who were interested in supporting one another even as we came to know ourselves better. We wanted to learn how to develop tools to help us understand what life throws at us while we sleep. 

We were trying to deal with problems or situations in our personal, professional and/or spiritual lives. One was struggling with infertility, one with feeling limited as a stay-at-home mom. One had been keeping dream journals for decades and talked about having vivid and often violent dreams her whole life. Most of us, however, were novices at this. All of us were just trying to get through each day in the best way and looked forward to our Monday evenings together as we explored this very personal aspect of our humanness. 

You have probably had the experience of waking up with the thought, "Boy, what a dream!" and within two minutes, it's a vague memory and you can't remember why you thought it was interesting or important. So, we learned to record everything as soon as you wake up. We learned to not judge and to listen very carefully as someone read what they wrote to describe the dream, the images, actions and feelings. We learned to say, "If that were my dream, I think it would mean this for me...."

At that time, I dreamt a lot about bathrooms and about Richard Nixon. Not necessarily together, but, yes, sometimes. Bathrooms in my dreams usually mean exposure and Nixon, betrayal. This topic came to mind because I recently watched Pentatonix Imagine online. They do a wonderful and moving rendition of the John Lennon song and I suggest you google, click, watch and listen to the end. Also, Nixon reappeared the other night.

Perhaps you, too, have repeating images or dreams and they niggle at the corner of your psyche or brain. Think about exploring what they might mean, but remember, sometimes a bathroom is just a bathroom.

Marilyn

Fitting in

One thing I enjoyed about watching Star Trek was that there were all sorts of characters and civilizations. The barber was blue. The Klingons had ridges on their foreheads. Spock had pointed ears. Geordi wore a visor that enabled him to see. Data was a pale-skinned android who wanted to be human. Differences were a given, sometimes commented on, sometimes the central point of the story, but most often just accepted. 

We spend a great deal of our lives trying to fit in, to be like everyone else, to be invited to the cool table in the lunchroom. Even if you are with the 'in crowd,' I've learned that as soon as you have three people in a space, there will eventually be a division resulting in a duo and an outcast. Over time, who is in and who is out, who sides with who shifts. It's part of being human. In the animal world it is more visceral and has to do with survival. The strongest duo carries on and leaves the weaker behind. Civilization is supposed to be better than that.

During the past year, the climate in our country has highlighted our differences - race, status, wealth, philosophies, beliefs, locale, gender, abilities. It has also brought to the forefront the fact that the barriers that once so visibly existed and that divided us - the Jim Crow laws, redlining, quotas, norms, fears - simply shifted into subtle rather than blatant dividers. Saying it another way, the bridges we thought we'd made as a people, as a culture, connecting us across all those differences are not very sturdy. They are surface bridges, not stable below the waterline. Unfortunately, it is what is below the waterline that matters the most, that provides the foundation on which all our "we are the world" rhetoric must stand. 

So, perhaps all this turmoil is a good thing. It makes us face and work at the hardest stuff. To be honest. To verbalize basic beliefs. Do we really mean health care for all? Nutritious food for the hungry? Are we our brother's keeper or does he need to pull himself up by his bootstraps so we only embrace him standing up and not when he is down? Do we assume the best or the worst? As I said, this not easy. The questions are difficult. The consequences will impact and define each of us. Each of us needs to do more than grumble. We need to get down to our own basics and ask, in our own world, where does everyone fit in? Once we have an answer, we need to make our stand.

Marilyn

Waiting for the tow truck

Years ago, on vacation in New Zealand, as we were leaving a B&B heading to town to catch a tour of Milford Sound and the beautiful fjords, I backed the car over something.  We were stuck. Luckily, we were at a working farm, and the owners got one of their tractors and remedied the situation quickly. I have had a couple of cars that required tows as they began to fail. A second tow was an alert that I needed to make a change.  Many television shows have a puzzle for contestants to solve. We sit in our living rooms and watch people get stuck. Sometimes we try to offer advise, yelling at the set for them to move certain pieces or pick a specific letter. We have a different perspective on what they are doing wrong and can help. We are, in essence, trying to be their tow truck.

Often we can be or feel stuck. Stuck in traffic. Stuck in certain patterns or routines or comfort zones. Stuck in unhealthy dysfunctional relationships or in our safe aloneness. Sometimes people close to us put and keep us in stuck conditions. Sometimes they can be the way out. It can be hard to face the first and just as hard to take their hand for the second in an effort to escape, to change.

There are two parts to the condition of stuck. The first is the getting there and the second is the getting un-. Both have their challenges. It can be hard to recognize our stuck-ness. There may be a sense of discomfort or boredom or we may be living in fear. There may be the why-rock-the-boat syndrome. We live in a world of rapid change, so we cling to the familiar as long as we can. But, I'll bet you can, without much thought, list a couple areas of your life you would like to be different. You've probably even tried a few things but reverted to former behaviors. You need a tow truck. Look for someone you trust to help. See this week if you are somehow in need of a tow and if you can be someone else's tow truck.

Marilyn

Take a break

When I was an IBEW/CWA (International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers/ Communications Workers of America) union member working for Illinois Bell, our work day included a scheduled 15 minute break in the morning and afternoon. And, believe me, you took your break and you took it on time, because if you didn't, it screwed up the workflow of the whole office. One of our requirements in my office now is that everyone has to take five consecutive business days off sometime in the calendar year. While most financial services organizations require this for people in specific jobs so that their books can be audited in their absence, for us, it is mostly about work/life balance for everyone.

In this day of work emails on my cellphone, which is also my only phone, it is difficult to not give into the temptation to stay in touch, to keep on top of things every day, at all times of the day. When I do take a week off, it is usually several days before I sense a change in rhythm and am able to not be in work and office mode. We have all known workaholics who never really do take a break. Whether out of fear that it might be discovered they are really dispensable, or because they are like Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory, who, when forced to take a vacation didn't know what to do. I think that is sad. Those early labor bargainers had it right: we all do need to take a break.

Studies show that productivity goes up when workers have a break in their routine. Students do better with a variety of subjects, not just topics they are interested in. Holidays, autumn and spring breaks give teachers and students a chance to regroup. Rules in sports provide quarters or innings or taking turns so that athletes, both pro and amateur, do not just keep going and going, since people are not the energizer bunny. Interior decorators include a contrasting color, knowing that such a break brings drama or is pleasing to the eye. Plays come in acts and concerts have intermissions.

We wait for a break in the weather, in traffic, from a run of bad luck. We roll our eyes indicating that universal 'give me a break' sigh when someone drones on and on. One friend encourages us to give another friend - or ourselves - a break. Whatever you spend the majority of time doing each day this week, plan to give yourself a break on whatever level you need that to mean. Stop. Breathe. Rest. Or, stop being so hard on yourself. See if it makes a difference.

Marilyn