My insomnia seems to be on hiatus, which is wonderful; however, getting out of bed is the least appealing part of my day these days, no matter how many dream-girls are trying to steal my wallet or goblins are misdirecting my texts. It’s fairly obvious that lack of desire to get out of bed correlates directly to the enthusiasm with which I am greeting the days. And I am the only person who can muster more enthusiasm so I am doing a combination of enthusiasm-mustering activities, faking a lot of smiles, and relying on the people in my life whom I know I can rely on to bolster my sense of self. You know who you are, and I thank you.
One such person, my dear friend S, had this to say by way of analyzing my wallet-grabbing dreams:
What does a wallet symbolize? Something we value. Not, usually, our identity — but certainly something important.
Perhaps the “youngish woman” is the younger version of you. As you are now, having earned your position of knowledge and wisdom from hard-won experience, are arguing with her to return what she has stolen… time, perhaps. Or opportunities you feel you might have missed. Of course, you never get them back in the dream. You just feel the loss.
You will stop having the dream when you forgive the girl. Let her know that she gave you something even more valuable.
This is profound, astute, and beautiful. And it’s sort of where I was leaning with my own analysis, but as I’ve offered up so many times before I am loathe to acknowledge the passing (or, as I fear to be the case, the wasting) of time and missed opportunities. But the longer we lament lamentation the more there is to lament. Right? So in following S’s wisdom, I forgive you, little girl, for using our time in the way that you have. Now please, give me back my wallet and keys and let’s move onward and upward.
Speaking of youth … yesterday I attended orientation for Girls Write Now, the mentoring program I’ve just become involved with (with which I’ve just become involved, grammar-sticklers) and I’m curious as to how it will all unfold. The idea is that an “adult” (ha!) writer is paired with a teenage girl of challenging circumstances who enjoys writing and wants to get better at it. We meet once a week and there are certain assignments to turn in throughout the year based on genre-dedicated workshops that are offered every month. Last night I met other mentors, an interesting group of women from all industries but most with writing and editing among their professional duties. I meet my mentee next weekend. This is a commitment of a sort I’ve not made in a while; I did work briefly with a girl from Covenant House a couple of years ago but she got kicked out of the program. I hope I’m a good mentor.
The picture above is a family portrait I created sometime around 1975. Before you get analytical and wonder why I’m not in it, I am; the camera lens was only wide enough to accommodate me or Lovable, and so I chose him. He’s Louie’s precursor. A German Shepard – basically looked like Louie would if I soaked him in water over night.
Tonight I am going to see The Eagles. Yep, I am on the musical cutting edge. Actually looking forward to it – many memories to many songs.
Onward and upward.