Saturday, January 1, 2011


I dreamed again last night a dream I seem to have every night, some variation thereof, this week. I dream I am watching the children and caring for the hungry while the others I know are off doing big, grand, publicity-worthy things. I dream that they don't always tell me what they are about to do, though they need me to support them. I dream that their children love me, and the people I care for love me. And the friends I'm supporting love me too -- but I want to be a part of what they do, what they have, and I get the feeling that I am not. And yet...what they do is good and glorious. It's not a depressing realization, or even the reality, this dream. I think I'm just nagging myself about my career, about the places where it intersects the rest of my life -- dissatisfied with myself. Making assumptions about my place in life that might not be true.

I used to always take my dreams as the unvarnished truth. Things I want; things I fear. Or communication from outside myself. Literal indications.

But no -- that's not wise. Maybe I can get to the bottom of this feeling, and not just berate myself for feeling dissatisfied. What is it that I want to DO that will satisfy the demons of insecurity? Or, is that the wrong approach as well? How best to dismiss them? For surely they will return, time after time, life is like that. For all but the blatantly oblivious among us.

Let's go.

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