Random Dream

I dreamt last night that I needed to get through Campus and to Urbana. I found myself in a big building- and all the signs for the exits lead in the wrong direction. So instead of heading downstairs to the ground floor I headed upstairs- through the lethal ceiling darts (with tips the length of myhand and as wide as a fist) that threatened to kill everyone looking for the way out- and found the way out. I threw open the doors for everyone else to follow. Outside was a modern pyramid. The sky was dark and the air was cool. We climbed down. Later I found myself back in the pyramid with heroes. We were led into a lecture hall. I climbed up to a seat and whispered words of warning to the heroes around me. The lethal dart missed my head but got my shoulder. Before it could retract I broke off the heavy point in the hope that it would just tap the next person. The heavy tipped dart was attached to the ceiling by something like a car aerial. So it was easy to break. Then I pretended to be dead and sat very still while the bad guys were trying to woo the heroes to their side. I concentrated on looking dead – eyes open and staring at abrown Bakelite box on the wall. Teeth clenched. Focussed on keeping the dart tip hidden in my bra. When I woke up my hands were asleep!

I spoke with an old friend about this dream (and others that may be considered similar) and he said that my hero dreams might illuminate a part of my personality that I was not aware of? I’ve never considered myself a hero, so I was very surprised! I always considered these “hero” dreams (his word not mine) as expressions of needing to escape. Maybe the dream is an expression of the emotions that have recently arisen? Do I suffer from delusions of grandeur? Do I need to lead others to safety? I hate to think of others being in pain and I do what I can to alleviate future suffering? Or maybe I am just the mad American lost in an English sea? Who knows?

In a discussion about this dream, I wondered why I was more likely to stop a bully tormenting someone else than stand up for myself – which gave rise to the question: is the distinction between myself and anyone else is reflective of how I see myself? I didn’t even consider the consequences (a possible physical confrontation?) when I protected Andrea all those years ago. Yet when it comes to my emotional wellbeing, I am more likely to endure emotional torment from my parents, Brian, a number of incidents at various offices where I have worked… When I was officially a Christian, I believed if I suffered in this life, that I would know peace in the next. I invited suffering into my life because, if the amount of suffering in the world is a finite and quantifiable amount, that I was willing to receive more than my fair share in order to save others suffering.

However, with my Buddhist hat on, I don’t have to suffer torment for the sake of enduring it. One would think that this realisation would be a wholly welcomed relief but I do still expect the other shoe to fall. There is nothing particularly special about me. There is nothing innately good that I deserve. When people say things about me, I am more likely to believe the bad things than the good. Even now, when friends come calling, I wonder what they might want; I find myself wondering what they are getting out of the experience of spending time with me. I use humour to make them laugh and then I go home having not really revealed much of my inner self. Thinking about it, I’m not surprised that I have spent the majority of my life feeling lonely. I haven’t let anyone see the real me. Because I felt that my parents did not love me, I did not express myself truly around them for fear of the torment I might endure. I never had anything important to say. I was afraid. I was the beaten puppy that resists trusting anyone. I didn’t deserve love because I didn’t know how to experience love/express love. No matter how compassionate I’ve been, no matter how much I protected people from torment, nothing I ever did was good enough. Even these words – I’m finding hard to keep on the page because I fear what people will think. It is as if I chose this physical existence to surround myself with judgmental people (Mom, DJ, Brian) in order to learn not to judge myself.

Published by Jade Hammer

It is in the deepest night that I have contemplated all the things I have thought, said and done. Why these things come to me at night probably says a lot about how the mind belittles and magnifies aspects of the personality. In sleeplessness, you see nothing, you also see everything: life themes, life lessons, ways to better approach your own thoughts, words and deeds. My name is Jade Hammer and these are the life lessons that have kept me up at night.

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