Saturday, July 4, 2015

Peace

There was a time when I couldn't remember my dreams at all. Perhaps, randomly some time after the dream I might remember the tone of a dream - perhaps that it was sinister - or that I had performed some action, but nothing that I could string together in any sort of coherent way.

Then, my dreams started to take some shape in my consciousness such that I could remember them as being an event. They still didn't have a beginning, a middle and an end, but I felt that I was in better tune with what my subconscious brain was doing whilst I slumbered.

In the past week or so I have had two very vivid nightmares. For me, this is odd. I remember a nightmare many years ago - about my son who was a toddler at the time being thrown out of the car. I was screaming, my husband told me. He woke me, alarmed. I remembered the dream vividly but even when he asked me what had happened, I couldn't say. I think my subconscious mind had registered the thought - 'I love you so much I couldn't bear to lose you' - and the human mind being what it is - my subconscious had insisted that I visit my worst nightmare.

Between then and now, up until the past week, I don't specifically recall any other nightmares. The first one was revolting. It is just too revolting to write down. I recall breathing very rapidly and deeply, trying to expunge the images. I think it related to insecurities about a comment made to me and my mind in slumber made it a million times worse than the reality.

I had let that dream go;  just managed to release myself from that awful nightmare when I had a nightmare last night far, far worse. I was in an Asian society trying to aid children who were being tortured in various ways when that scene altered to a group of us being told that a local person could pick one of us (all Europeans of some kind) and they'd be safe, but if an Asian person didn't pick a European it would spell death.

I wasn't picked and that relates, I bet, to the fact that I know that I'm not the life of the party. Dozens of people would be picked for popularity before they'd get to me. My mind refused to accept my fate, and I went about distributing books for the children and such simple tasks until I was directed in some other way. Basically, I was in shock.

Later, those on 'death row', so to speak, were watching visitors leave this place when I saw an opportunity to slip into the row of visitors leaving. I could have easily been noticed but I wasn't noticed, and as I was walking out quietly in the row I saw my brother and his best friend from schooldays arrive. Gosh, even in the dream I registered how thrilled I was that he came to my aid, and that relates to some very intimate conversations we have had lately where we feel much closer to one another.

I would have thought I'd be whisked away by them but in my dream state I was still in mortal danger. Some other women who had tried to escape by lying in the gutter were collected and taken back inside. I saw that happening. How did I see that happening? I don't know. It turns out that I was in a dreadful state, whatever had happened, rather close to death but hanging on, in a drain.

By now, my mind had dealt with all that it could and the heavy breathing started again. I made myself wake. I made myself get up so that I could let go of this wicked nightmare.

Why now? Why are these nightmares occurring to me now? Well, after 50+ years on this planet (closer to 60 really) I've dropped the Pollyanna state of mind. I've come to see what so many others have always known, that it is the human specie that is the most aggressive animal on the planet - that we kill our own.

Like death, which I never wanted to focus on as a child, I haven't wanted to deal with the fact in adulthood that people are aggressive, cruel; nasty; evil at their worst.

Of course, most people are good, kind, loving; well meaning. I still believe that. But the truth is that we are a world of people in conflict; that so many of us demand control; to have our own way no matter what.

Of course, it doesn't help that I am studying script writing right now either.

'Make things more difficult for her.'
'Have them arguing about something.'
'End each scene with (potential) escalating trouble.

This is how our brains work. This is what we want out of our movie watching because this is what we relate to - that our lives are full of conflict and struggle; that to get what we want mountains must be moved first.

Is it any wonder that some girls (and some men) relate to the photograph above - to be loved, cherished, safe; to be in a confined environment where the rules are understood and love is a given. This is peace. 

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