Dream a Little Dream

I saw Inception last week... Wow.

I actually heard someone say that it was "good, but could have been so much better." Really? How's that? Short of pulling the audience into a three (or four) tiered shared dream with the characters, I don't see how it could have been any closer to perfection. I wish to hell I had written it. (And anytime I say that about a book or movie, it is the highest compliment I can give it.)

For those of you who haven't had a chance to see it yet, I won't ruin anything by commenting on any details. But the film has made me think more deeply about dreams since I saw it, so I think it's a good segue into a post on these mysterious, nocturnal phenomena.

I've always had very vivid dreams, and I almost always remember them. It's both a boon and a curse, as you can imagine. Like in the movie, I have had a couple of those dream-within-dream experiences. Freaked me right the hell out both times. I also have the privilege of "lucid dreaming." That's the level of consciousness that allows you to realize you are dreaming, and if you've ever had that experience, it's pretty freaking cool. The next step is to realize that if you are dreaming, you can attempt to control the dream. Need a gun? Picture it in your hand. Want to fly? Take off and start kicking. (Flying has always felt like "swimming in the air" in my dreams. I kick to remain airborne, and if I stop, I slowly float back down. No Superman-style zipping through the air for me. I'm usually vertical.)

So this may all be a lot of fun, but the question remains, why do we dream? Is it just the mind going haywire while we're sleeping? You hear people say all the time, "Oh, it was just a dream. It doesn't mean anything." Or do dreams have some significance, some symbolic meaning?

I think they do, indeed. But here's the tricky part: I believe only the dreamer can interpret his or her dream. See, the subconscious mind reveals itself through our dreams, so only we know what that huge snake represented in our nightmare, or why we couldn't see the face of our groom at the end of the aisle, or what the gasping goldfish in our pocket was trying to tell us.

Oh, I have had my share of the usual dreams: I'm naked in a high school classroom about to take a test I didn't study for; suddenly my teeth crumble and fall out, like pieces of chalk; I'm getting married in 15 minutes to someone I don't know and I have no dress to wear, so I'm shopping but everything is made of see-through chiffon and is size XL. (Wait...you don't have that one?)

But I also have had some really profound ones, too. I will share a dream I had years ago that taught me a lesson and changed my life. It's still clearly vivid even today... I was washing dishes and looking out the kitchen window, when I realized that the view was moving. Our house was somehow rolling down the street, down a hill, toward a large lake. I called out to my husband and children, but it was too late. The next thing I knew, we were in a sinking house. Then, we were underwater. I was desperately shoving the kids out the window and directing them to swim up to safety. I watched them make their way up toward the light at the water's surface. They made it! Then I turned toward my husband. The house was now gone, and we were at the bottom of the lake. I reached out to him, begging him to take my hand. But he was slipping backward, toward a deep, dark crevasse in the lake floor. Half his body was already in. I grabbed his hand and pulled, but instead of helping him out, I was being pulled in with him. I kept trying...wouldn't give up. Then I awoke.

What did it mean? Well, I think I can tell you. My now ex-husband has always struggled with depression. When I married him, I was sure a Miss Pollyanna Sunshine like me could cheer him up and we'd go through life wearing our matching rose-colored glasses. But I now know (through my reading and through life experiences) that the opposite usually happens. When a depressed person and a happy person hook up, the balloon doesn't lift up the anvil. The anvil grounds the balloon.

I couldn't pull him out of the crevasse. I had to give up, or I would drown.

It was one step in the long process of accepting that I needed to end my marriage, but that dream helped me forgive myself for not being able to help him. God knows I tried (and he will tell you that), but only he can pull himself out. So, I untied my balloon, and let it float free again.

If we are open to listening to our dreams, they can really tell us a lot. If you (like many people) can't recall your dreams, then get a notebook to keep by your bedside. Jot phrases down and return to them later when you are more awake. Or just spend a couple minutes first thing in the morning trying to recall the last dream you had, before it slips away for good as your regain wakeful consciousness. Those first moments are crucial, when you are still between the dream and your wakeful reality. Listen to them. Don't dismiss them as silly and meaningless. Use them as a method of self-discovery and spiritual growth. What are your dreams trying to teach you?

Like the immortal bard says:

We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

Sweet dreams...

Perfection Is Overrated

"Better a diamond with flaws than a pebble without." ~ Chinese Proverb

I love Chinese sayings. So pithy and simple, yet so wise. I think most of us accept that we aren't perfect, but we still don't like it. You will often hear someone say, "Well, I'm certainly not perfect, but..." Rarely will you hear someone say, "Well, I'm not perfect, and here is the list." I'm reading Elizabeth Gilbert's new book, Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage, and again, I'm amazed at the parallel circumstances of our lives.

You may remember that I finished Eat, Pray, Love right before I moved out of an apartment and into my new home. She wrote the book right after her difficult divorce and painful breakup with a boyfriend. I read it during the same transition in my life. After closing the book she wrote about her journey to Italy, India, and Indonesia (to learn how to eat, pray, and love), I started life in a new home sandwiched between and Indian family and an Indonesian family (my next-door neighbors). Incidentally, I am now dating an Italian. And boy, do we eat.

Well, she's speaking my language again. In Committed, she takes the reader on a journey through the evolution of marriage as an institution. It's good stuff, and I'm hooked. Anyway, the other day I was reading a section in which she enumerates her flaws as she presented them (in writing) to her fiance, Felipe. He replied by asking her if she had anything else to add that he didn't already know. (Gotta love this guy.)

As a gem importer, he was used to buying "parcels," groupings of gems (some good, most not-so-good) and evaluating the bad gems first. He told her that everyone sees the good gems first, and ignores the rest until after they have purchased the parcel. Don't we all see and adore the best qualities another person has to offer? Then they discover they can't really live with the "bad" gems and have overpaid for a few good ones. He looks at the bad gems first, to see if he thinks he can make anything with them. After explaining this analogy, he tells her that, regarding their relationship, he has seen it all. He can accept the whole parcel.

Don't we all want this from our loved ones? To be accepted, completely, bad stones and all? But who among us really wants to write all this down and present it to them?

"Here's why you should run screaming, buddy. But I hope you don't."

Well, she has inspired me. If Elizabeth Gilbert can write her flaws down for millions to read, I can do the same for all 23 of you out there. (wink)

1. I am compulsive. I can't work at home unless the place is spotless, and I have kids, so it never is. I will clean and tidy up before anything else gets done. And if you leave a mess for me to clean up, God have mercy on your soul. Because...

2. I have a temper. I scream at cars on the road who cut me off, go too slowly, go too fast, drive in the wrong lane, or won't let me the *@#& over.

3. I cuss way too much.

4. I have fears of abandonment. (I come by this one legitimately, but that's no excuse. I'm working on it.) Historically, this has resulted in me morphing into whatever my partner needs me to be. I will lose myself in him, adapting to my surroundings like a cuttlefish on the ocean floor. I am much, much better about this one at 41 than I was at 21.

5. I am easily distractible. For instance, that word (distractible) came up as not a word in this writing program, so I had to leave the blog and go look it up on dictionary.com before I could continue. You'll be happy to know it is indeed a word. Now, where was I. . .?

6. I have a hard time staying focused on a task. How I wrote two whole novels, I have no idea.

7. I talk way too much. I just don't know when to shut up sometimes. Especially when I'm nervous. Or when I've had a few drinks.

I'm sure there are more, but that seems like enough self-deprecation for now. In Twelve Step Programs, there is something called a moral inventory, and steppers are supposed to take a "searching and fearless" one. It's a good step, and you don't have to be an addict of any kind to do one. We are all flawed. Try it. You don't have to share it with millions, just yourself. Take a look at your own parcel.

I once told someone that we are all broken, but we are beautiful in our brokenness. Our imperfections make us human and offer us tremendous opportunities for growth. If we can find acceptance in this lifetime from even one person for who we are, as we are, flaws and all, we are blessed indeed. And perhaps we should start with ourselves.

So today, I am celebrating all of you beautiful, broken people out there. Bad stones and all, your parcel is precious.

Give a Little

This morning I got a call from a number I didn't recognize. Since I'm job-searching right now, I answered it, of course. I figured it was probably for an interview for my dream job. Can't pass that up.

The polite lady on the other end asked for me by name. Good sign.

"This is Angela at Atlanta Blood Services. I'm calling you today because we are in urgent need of platelets and wondered if you would be willing to come in and donate."

I've given before, which is why they have my number and know me by name. My heart sank, because instead of giving me a job, these people want to take my blood, literally. Without hesitation, I answered her.

"Sure. I can come in tomorrow."

I have an 11:30 appointment. No aspirin, drink fluids, and eat a hearty meal.

Am I just a sucker who can't say no? Hardly. Ask the FOP, the AJC, or any guy I dated in high school. I know the word. But I also believe we must give if we want to receive. And I am asking a lot of the Universe these days. So, right now, I am taking advantage of any legitimate opportunity I have to give a little. I don't have much, but I can give some platelets without any effect on my bank accounts. So I will. Tomorrow at 11:30. I will get to watch some television, drink juices, eat some snacks, and save someone's life. Not a bad way to spend a couple hours on a Wednesday.

I also have been saying yes to requests for help with writing projects lately. I can give that, too. And who knows where assisting someone could lead? At the very least, to some good karma, and an immediate sense of fulfillment in helping another person. I believe in building bridges, not moats. In this complicated, convoluted world we live in, we must help each other out. Deepak agrees.

In The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success, he tells us the second law is the Law of Giving and that the Universe "operates through dynamic exchange." This basically means if we stifle the giving part, nothing comes back to us. We don't receive. If this seems a hard pill to swallow, think about investors. The only way they can really cash in is to put it out there. You gotta risk it and put money in to get any return. The laws of the Universe don't just work that way with money. Think of your very breath. In....out....in....out... What happens if you try to hold onto that breath, not let it out? You can't inhale without getting rid of the stale air inside your lungs first. Once you do blow it all out, then you can deeply ingest that fresh, cool air, full of all the oxygen you need.

Dynamic exchange.

So, these days I am giving. Try it and see what kind of results you get, when you give, unquestioningly, generously, and without expectation of reciprocity. There is, in Buddhism, a hierarchy of giving:

The miserly giver gives what she doesn't want anymore. Sort of like that box of old clothes you put on your porch for the Paralyzed Veterans or the American Kidney Fund pickup. It's a helpful form of giving, but it requires very little or nothing from the giver.

The kindly giver gives what he wants to receive, and this is a more generous, thoughtful type of giving. There is more thought behind the gift, and perhaps even some small sacrifice of time or money.

But the kingly giver...she gives the very best she has, of her time, her resources, her material possessions. Sometimes even her very life. This is the soldier's sacrifice for his country, the mother's sacrifice for her children, or the organ donor giving a perfect stranger a kidney because it's a match. Kingly givers also give without question, hesitation, or regret. Wouldn't the world be an incredible place with more of these givers in it?

For now, I will try to give on any level I can. So, if you need something, I'm kind of an open target these days. As an Aquarian, my tendencies are towards helping others anyway, even when they don't ask for it. I may not have much money, but I am willing to give of my time, my talents, even my bodily fluids.

But for now, I'm holding onto my kidneys. Just saying.

Que Sera, Sera

Whatever will be, will be.

I don't know about you, but I need constant reminding of this little nugget of wisdom. Most of us spend an awful lot of time and energy fighting the moment, trying to control outcomes that aren't even remotely within our sphere of influence. In Twelve Step Program meetings, you will often hear this passage quoted:

And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation -- some fact of my life -- unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.

Apparently nothing happens by mistake. Even the stuff we don't like happens for a reason, even if we can't see that reason until we're checking out the situation in hindsight. How many times have you noticed, after the fact, that a "disaster" was really a blessing?

"Thank God I never got THAT job. I love where I am now."

"Where would I be if I had actually MARRIED So-and-So? I never would have met YOU."

"Isn't this house wonderful? SO glad that first deal fell through."

Situations that seem like the end may actually be detours onto new beginnings. This is a philosophy I try to live by. I even wrote a novel about the cleansing effect of disaster, aptly titled, My Creative Destruction. Sometimes, it is the only way I can face another day in times of crisis or uncertainty.

Deepak also reinforces this notion, saying "This moment is exactly as it should be." Instead of fighting the situation, we need to embrace it, learn the lesson in it, or just let it prepare the way for what is next.

Of course, this is in relation to things we cannot control. If we need to lose weight, or quit smoking, or get a job, there are things we can do about that, to a degree. We can put out resumes and go to job fairs, but we have no control over the decisions made by the people hiring. We can put down the cheesecake and join a gym, but we have no control over the genes that give us a certain body type. We can decide to quit smoking, but we have no control over a loved one who needs to quit...but won't. When we find ourselves facing one of these situations in which we have no control, all we can do is embrace acceptance.

I accept that I cannot go SCUBA diving, because I get terrible motion sickness. It sucks, because it looks like a ton of fun, but I have proven that I am not cut out for it (after feeding the fish both in the water and over the side of the boat on a snorkeling expedition in Key West). No deep sea fishing, no thrill rides at theme parks, no reading on the train, no backseat snoozing on a car trip. All I can do is accept this. There must be some good reason for it. Maybe I would die in a horrible shark attack or get stuck in some underwater shipwreck if I were able to do it, because that's the kinda trouble I would very likely go looking for. Maybe I have no business under the sea. This time around, the Universe thinks I have plenty to do on land. (By the way, I can and do go whitewater rafting, for which I am exceedingly grateful. That's some fun right there.)

Of course there are countless other things that I file under acceptance when I realize I am butting my head against a wall. I will never be tall. I am never going to be on American Idol. I can't make others hire me, like me, or publish me against their will. I will never have lovely hands or thick hair. Being bilingual is probably not in the cards.

But I got a whole lotta things going my way. I have many great friends. I am in excellent physical condition, especially for 41. I have two beautiful children who seem to be doing very well in this lifetime so far. I have two degrees and two novels under my belt. A beautiful home. The love of my family. And a wonderful boyfriend who is completely supportive of me.

So I'm including a link to Doris Day's version of the song, Que Sera, Sera. (You may have to paste it into your web address box.) Yes, it's kitschy and corny and old fashioned. But listen to it anyway. And then just TRY to have a bad day. Whatever will be, will be.

Acceptance is the answer to all our problems today. This moment is exactly as it should be, no matter how rough it may seem. One thing I have learned on my rafting trips down rivers: rapids are always followed by calm waters. So, just relax and go with the flow.

Sing it, Doris...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZbKHDPPrrc