Thursday, 14 February 2008

Dreams and Trebuchets

It must be the antibiotics; I dozed between sleep and wakefulness this morning dreaming of being kept prisoner in a damp, cold stone room with large flagstones on the floor and some hay in the corner for my bed. I had no window, just an arrow slit in the thick walls where I could hear hammering and knocking and men shouting. There was a rumbling sound as if heavy machinery was being moved along a gravel road... I awoke. The hammering was still there, so too the sound of heavy machinery; the builders had started work early, and the dust-cart was emptying the bins outside. Not a flagstone in sight and my bed was not made of hay.

I lay there for a while, reaffirming the reality of my life, time and place. I was not a maiden in distress locked away in a castle tower, nor were there Trebuchets on the horizon ready to hurl fireballs. Perhaps my subconscience was saying that I need to be rescued from my current situation... who knows? In my mind I rattled off all the good things about my existence; I am secure, have a nice home, have wonderful daughters, two peculiar but loveable cats, am in good health, (apart from my inflamed teeth), I have a car and live in a particularly beautiful part of England. This is more than a lot of people have, so why the dream?

Some of my weirdest dreams have materialised whilst under medication or with a high temperature. Years ago, I lay in a hospital bed, recuperating from a major operation; dosed up with Pethadine and coming round from a deep sleep, when I imagined a fire engine speeding towards me and about to run me down. I remember my heart thumping in my chest and woke up suddenly to see the Tea Trolley coming to a stop by my bed. "Cup of tea, Love?"

1 comment:

sctshep said...

Dear Jenny
Who knows why the dreams pop up. Given where you are in re-entering the world, which seems to be a good place, it could be just a reminder that there is always work to do even when you think you are getting it together. While some things are being torn down other things are being built up. Twenty years from now when you are doing fine you might have a sudden period of sadness or even crying which will seem to come out of nowhere. It won't last and even though you might think you're going crazy you aren't. I admire your courage and spirit in general. If you get a chance go to my website and click on the book on the right called "Choosing the gift - dealing with the loss of a loved one." I did this version on my site so that it has some music behind it. This book came out of years of working with people who have lost loved ones and seeing what seemed to make the difference between the people who seemed to get through and those that didn't. The woman who did the photographs, she and her husband lost a daughter to cancer some 25 years ago when she was 12. She has never stopped giving back. I wish the best for you and just by reading a little of your material I have the feeling that your humor will go a long way in your life. By the way I'm not trying to sell you the book. I just thought you might like it.