An incredible dream seeped in last night. I still remember it so vividly ...feel it as if it were real. I was hanging out with a 12 year-old version of myself. But it wasn't like a funny, weird, "oh my god, haha! this is me when I was 12!" dream. It was quite profound. I didn't communicate much with myself, but more followed my younger self around as a somewhat silent voyeur. The 12 yr old me knew I was there though. Ok, this is going to get confusing, so let's call little Julia LJ (creative, I know). Anyway, at first I was just watching LJ on a spring day. She (I) was alone in the woods sitting on a pile of dirt, moss and leaves, carving words into the firm ground with a tree branch. It felt so good being there again. I mean, this is something I always did...and being there, watching myself do it, well, I don't really know how to describe it, but it was powerful. In a way, I felt very motherly toward LJ. I was bursting with pride, or something like it, as I watched LJ drink in the smells and sounds of nature, experimenting with countless word ensembles in the earth: "the zephyr hugs me like an old, worn blanket", "a puddle, my soul is absorbed by this dirt as it becomes the trees' life force" (things were actual things that the real, non-dream LJ would write). It was pleasant, comforting, wonderful.
Then LJ left the forest, hung out with her brothers for a while. During the entirety of the dream we would have little bit of contact here and there. She would be in the middle of doing something, whether it be relaxing with her (my) brothers, riding her bike, or just sitting somewhere outside, and randomly speak. She'd say things that made me want to scoop her up and cradle her in my arms, like: "I wish I were pretty" "what if no one ever falls in love with me?" "what if i'm never good enough?" "how do i learn how to love myself?"...these really started coming toward the end of the dream, then suddenly i was looking her right in the eye and her young face (my young face) just broke into a wail and LJ cried out "it just hurts so much" as she opened her arms and looked up to the sky. It was then that I actually held her, my former self, and said "I know, I know".
It pretty much ended there but I really cannot describe how powerful this dream was. Maybe it was my subconscious' way of wishing I could go back in time and warn my former self about some things. Or maybe it was just a way of connecting with myself on an even more intimate level, because in many ways, present day Julia still has those same questions/anxieties.
I don't know...it was a gift though, that dream.
************************************************
More to share, more to share!
A designer who specializes in hand-engraving lines of poetry on jewelry...um, YES PLEASE!
Check out Jeanine Payer:
**********************************************
I mentioned this already, but to read more about "Poem In Your Pocket Day", go to:
**********************************************
Want to read this:
The Book of Dead Philosophers, by Simon Critchley
"Socrates perverted the youth of Athens and had to drink hemlock. Abela
rd suffered castration for his illicit romance with Heloise. Descartes was present both at the Battle of the White Mountain and the subsequent massacres of Bohemian Protestants and might have been a spy for the Jesuits. Locke had to flee into political exile. Bertrand Russell went to prison for opposition to the First World War, while his pupil and later nemesis Wittgenstein served in the Austrian army and wrote his Tractatus on the Eastern Front. Nietzsche and Althusser went mad; the latter strangled his wife, while the former's sister strangled his reputation. Sartre was a Communist, Heidegger a Nazi. Camus played football and died in a car crash. Not a few of them were preternaturally amorous."
**********************************************
I had some training yesterday on HTML. I feel like such a computer geek. And I love it. Oh ya, you know, just ehhhh, let me handle any of your HTML needs ;)
**********************************************
Candy will always rise above social and economic tumult...
As will writing groups...
Candy is the new escargot, writing groups are the new...uh...well writing groups have always been awesome
*************************************
Ok, this is a nearly 2 hour lecture by Prof. Richard Sapolsky on the neurobiology of primate sexuality...seriously, you're going to want to watch it. It's great once you get past the little handout dilemma at the beginning.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-2732704984000303543&hl=en***********************************
*********************************************
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten...
No comments:
Post a Comment