Mindful-fun-da-mentals

Explorations of mind, paths, and life

Morning Chat

Posted on February 22, 2009 - Filed Under self reflect

So I have been getting up every morning, and the first thing I do is write three pages in my journal. The Artist Way workshop makes this part of the “unblocking” process, and it is important to write EVERY morning. Now, whether or not people in the program actually do that is another thing entirely, purely information whether done or not. I however, in the glory of setting up my “artist space” have made this a morning meditation, to just dump what ever comes to mind on paper. It is rare when there is something I don’t want to share, but one of the rules to these pages is that you don’t look back, don’t re-read, and DON’T SHARE anything you have written. It is out, and gone… I guess this is part of the permission giving process “I give myself permission to just write anything and everything…” Yet, something about me is resistant to that as tiny morsels of interesting things get dumped on to the pages, and so, here I am, plucking it out from the heap, shaking it off, and carefully transcribing it here.

So, before I get into the actual conversation, I need to back up just a bit. I have been having all kinds of crazy dreams since I started this process. The themes, as always the last two years, are wrapped around bizarre spaces, ornately clustered rooms of other people’s stuff. Basically I am left each night to meander, detective-like, through rooms and stuff. However, recently I am doing more traveling, on ships, and planes, and bikes, and subways. Now I am not just plunked down in a spot and aimlessly wandering through rooms of things, but going to new places and dealing with “more rooms of things.” Yesterday morning I awoke to a crazy dream (I am leaving out most of the details) in which I find myself trying to squeeze down the aisles of a plane.

Now, I guess I have to interrupt this again, and remind readers that what I say next is just honest with regards to what I was dreaming, and I, in no way, want to offend anyone with the content of my dream as stereotypical as it may appear, or racist, or even bigoted (depending on the reader), it was, A DREAM … and it isn’t like I was conjuring up things just to offend people. In fact, if most humans took time to remember their dreams I think many of them would offer the same types of bizarre symbolism which at face value might be offensive to others. Something about all this has meaning for me on a deeper level, so my conversation provides the vessel to that meaning…. but we are getting to that…

So… I am squeezing myself down an aisle on a plane late at night. To the left and right of me, and as far as I can see, the plane is filled with black people. Noisy, vivacious talk, all kinds of dress, various snorts and snores. I see no room for me anywhere, and I am a bit amused that I can’t find a seat. As I continue to move forward I hit a “sleeper” and 8 plump black women, with crazy hairdos and rollers, gold teeth and large jangly earrings, are laying side by side in beds on both sides of the aisle – 4 on each side. They roll and scowl as I try to move between them, gawking at me as if it is none of my business to be where I am, and I know my face wears an apologetic frown as I make eye contact with one woman on the left near the window. I then look down towards the ground so as not to invade their sleeping space, as I hear their grumbles and puffs of dissatisfaction. On the ground I find large – I mean REALLY LARGE – lacy and colorful silk panties tossed by the women on the beds. For a brief moment I think to myself that all these women are panty-less, and I am almost stunned that they are so bold, and that they dare to wear lacy colorful panties like those…… Another part of my dream emerges and I find myself in the tight dark streets of a big city. It is gray and dismal, almost rainy. As we walk we are suddenly met with a very ancient looking entrance, with marble pillars, and ivy walls, a gateway. I see glimpses of dark greens and red-earth browns and I am entranced. I tell Gary I want to go in (as I always do when I find homes places out of the ordinary). Someone says it is like nothing I have seen before… I move under the gateway and almost fall into colors that seem unnatural yet appropriate. Trees of an almost blue-green, and soil that is blood red. I hear nature – feel it- and wonder how this can be where it is. The old woman who let us in starts to speak its history… and although I know Gary is not as entranced as I am – I can feel the it – the space – like it melds with me…

This morning I awake – wide eyed and curious. I wonder why I keep having all these peculiar dreams on vessels, in rooms. So I say, “Tell me SELF, what is all that about?” and I wait for an answer. Then, something spilled out in riposte and I settle on carrying on a conversation.

~ wise inner “self”
– Awake and lucid logical “self”

~ Ah, so you are finally going to ask?
– Yeah… (surprise) all these themes, traveling, rooms, people, …what gives?
~ You tell me, what is travel?
– A journey? I’m on a journey! And all these people, people hiding my stuff? [ I stare off into space and carry on a whole other conversation in my head about Kristen, and the P3 fiasco with Gift Certificates, etc… Long story… but she reminds me of the woman in my dream (yet another piece) with all the bullshit she spewed and I wondered how she came to all those conclusions – how did I get so mis-read? blah Blah Blah – no one will understand that part.] Then snapping my mind back…
~ People. Could those people possibly be fragments of yourself, the way in which you are disingenuous to your “self”?
– Yeah? (not sure if I trust that remark – a little resistance) But come ON – rows and rows of fat black ladies who have tossed their colorful silk panties all over the plane? I just don’t get the symbolism there!
~ No, I think we were being humorous there – but tell me how you feel about that?
– [I think again about squeezing through those colorful grumbling ladies] Awkward! I think uncomfortable, yet amazed… amazed at how free they were and I wouldn’t get caught dead tossing my panties on a plane!
~ Hmmmm…. and you wouldn’t get “caught dead” tossing your creativity around a bit more? [ my head swells with my dream of being a gypsy, free and expressive, uninhibited, self-expressive]
– Well, I think that’s going too far. Maybe there are pieces of me that stay pretty hidden, but my panties?
~ Aren’t your panties a bit more intimate than your shirt – lets say?
– OH Goodness! Touché! So I run around frantic in my dreams, bumping into pieces of my “self,” criticism (self), dis-ingenuousness, the character that works too hard and doesn’t take the encouragement, and ALL OF THEM, even the big fat black ladies, with their gold teeth and fiercely outrageous hairdos, and can “let it all hang out” better than I am willing to attitudes. Even they are a piece of my “self!” And, on this journey, going through all these rooms, with all these vehicles (vessels), I am searching for my “self” – seeing all the pieces that hold me back, or pieces that encourage me to let go? I almost can’t get my head wrapped around it all! I was really just hoping it meant I was going to travel someplace…
~ You are… but no. I have been offering up all those spaces so you could look at your “stuff.”
– … (thoughtful pause… really thoughtful pause… I am piecing together how randomly juicy throwing around my panties might be – figuratively speaking – of course I am resistant to lacy panties – maybe I need to buy some) Wait wait… so the part of my dream yesterday… with the garden in the middle of a dirty city – “like nothing I have ever seen”?
~ Oh, you know… how far did you go in?
– I couldn’t go far, there was a wall of deep red dirt and rock – but the color of the trees were amazing – I WANTED to go further!
~ And so… (she waits for me to keep piecing all this together) the garden – what is that?
– Garden of Eden – MY garden of Eden, where my creativity grows – my garden of amazing potential! So I see it there – I am aware of it being there, do I get to go in?
~ (I sense this glow – this knowing she has…) All gardens need to be nurtured, admired, tended to – you just keep that up!

Ah – “morning pages”… I think I will keep that up!

Comments

2 Responses to “Morning Chat”

  1. Gary (aka metal-head Adonis) on February 23rd, 2009 10:22 am

    you go girl 🙂

  2. Monica on February 24th, 2009 10:34 pm

    Hmmmm. Maybe you DO need cute lacy undies…
    Find some here:

    http://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/mpp.do?promoid=81276&promorefid;=81276&promotype;=mup&redirect;=true

    love,
    mon

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