The cold air can haunt your dreams
The dark dream was set in my home. A terrible rain roared above, like a waterfall thick droplet soaked my roof. There was so much water the house couldn’t keep up and so it began to pour into the attic and drip through the ceiling. The floor was covered in water and my basement was flooding. Everything was falling apart and no matter how much I worked to save my house it continued to fill.
This was a nightmare I had years ago. My sleepy time tunes should have been terrific, instead they were terrifying. My nighttime slumber land was wracked with terrible feels and dream sights.
I can remember feeling like no matter what I did, no matter what changes I made, the effects of the water would remain. There were moments when I was outside my house looking in. I was both inside and outside at the same time. My outside-self watched as I fought the torrential downpour as it obliterated my home. As I watched I considered my options, I could let the rain do its thing and then reenter the home like nothing happened, or I could cut out the bad parts and treat the remaining wood with chemicals.
I was afraid of cutting it up and spraying it with chemicals, because I wasn’t sure if I could handle that stress. Could I walk away from the home? Maybe instead I could just do nothing and let nature take its course? I knew with this kind of damage there was no way I could permanently fix it. I didn’t want to leave my home, yet at the same time I didn’t want to continuously struggle to fix it. It’s a daunting task, especially when it’s destined to be destroyed. My home would be uncomfortable to live in with the warped floors and wet ceilings, but that life would be better than to have it cut up and gutted.
Sometimes our dreams process our fears and thoughts.
Our dreams grant us the opportunity to explore our world in another way. It’s a time when we can see our life with the insight of our sleepy time eyes. This nightmare reflected the cold air outside of my blanket. I had just completed chemotherapy, the harm it had done was horrible and I was afraid of enduring it again.
The symbols in the dream were obvious, even within the first few minutes of waking up I knew what they represented. The water was the cancer, and my home was my body. The dream was a conversation with myself, a dialogue between the deepest depths of my inside zones and the outer layers of my personality. It was an internal conversation and contract I made with myself to never again endure the horror of chemotherapy.
Make the right decisions for you
It all comes down to making the right decisions for yourself. We all must decide how much we are willing to endure. At what point are you done dealing with the hell of hardship? Is there a point when you call it quits and when you reach that point, what will you do?
No matter what you decide, select your options with considerable thought. How will you feel afterwards? What are you giving up? How much life do you need to have the experiences you want, and who’s wants are you following?
These are questions we must ask ourselves when facing any big decision. I had to explore these ideas when confronting Ino, Ernest and every relationship I’ve had in my life. If you take the time to explore them you can increase the likelihood you make the right decisions to avoid strife.
