Last night’s dream woke me up in the wee hours of the morning. In my dream, I was standing on the front porch of my parents’ house looking out into the front yard watching a crew of people digging up old family heirlooms that belonged to my Pappy. We had his tackle box and a toolbox. Someone decided it was ok to bring the dirt-covered items inside the house making a total mess on the floor. That was my first red flag; I knew my mother would not be pleased with that decision.
Then a tornado siren started going off right in the middle of all this work! The crew and the rest of the neighborhood got in their cars and started driving off. Bumper-to-bumper traffic on this quiet little neighborhood backroad; I watched it all from inside staring out the living room window. Cars were coming up and out of my parents’ driveway, too; I even recognized one of my coworkers. Everybody was gettin’ the hell outta’ there…except me.
The wind started blowing hard pushing trash cans and lawnmowers down the street. Even an electric marquee caution sign that flashed “Caution – Call Before You Dig” was pushed down and out of sight. Tree branches, leaves, and papers went whirling across my view, and I could feel that I was in for more trouble.
Everybody cleared out, even my parents, and I was left alone in their house listening to the sounds of the wind howling outside. I must have lost power because I was walking through the house turning down the wicks on all the oil lamps. I climbed into the bed of the spare bedroom and tucked myself in real tight. I’d been asleep for a few hours when I awoke (still in my dream) to the sound of someone frantically trying to get inside. I could hear the fumbling of keys at the door. I sensed something was chasing her, and that’s when I jolted myself awake (in real life). I don’t want to know what happened.
I think I was the person trying to get inside, and I didn’t help me.
Reflecting on my emotions in this dream, it is clear I didn’t want anything to do with that version of me. Everything I did in the dream has a common theme of separation or shutting out. That’s one of my defense mechanisms. To shun, remove, run away, or move on from mistakes or anything I don’t like. You should have seen me react to yellow squash casserole as a child.
I know what this is about, and I’m finally ready to open the door.
From the Outside,
Margie
