11:25pm and still awake. Had coffee too late with JJ, right before we went on a walk through the canyons. I made her go all the way to the top, up baby bear and then down the steep ridge line, papa bear, and we fly like billy goats, like low saucers, while Saucy bombed the hill with no breaks. I had strange dreams last night, they’ve made me a little hesitant about going to sleep tonight. But being the glutton for pain and perfect addict that I am, sleep will come, and dreams may follow.
Last night I was flying airplanes. And the dream didn’t involve my usual flight path, a luxury trip from LAX to JFK, or Kahalui, it was me flying a plane with a few passengers and all around me other planes were exploding and falling from the sky. It was raining airplanes. I screamed to the people on board “Hold on!” as I dodged the burning masses of metal, and made it safely to a strange mysterious destination, the details of which have left me with the sunlight from this day.
Lisa Shea says ”
For you to dream about a plane crash means that something OUT of your control, that you should be able to rely on and trust in, has gone haywire. This isn’t about you and something you should have been able to do properly. This is about someone or something else that you *Trusted* that let you down completely, in a way that had a huge impact on your life.
Plane wrecks aren’t about small dings that a mechanic has to fix. Plane wrecks are about huge national-news issues that affect many people.
What major incident in your life is causing you trouble? What large issue, that should be reliable, has gone off kilter?”
I think that is fairly straight forward. The relationship with my mother that seems to be crumbling at my fingertips is a major incident in my life causing me trouble. It seems as though in writing the even tempered response sent out yesterday, she has extracted things that were not said. Most likely from reading this blog, as I’ve repeatedly asked her not to do. It’s always an attack on the self. A little ad hominem genetic for your wednesday evening. Perhaps even the general ad hominem. Fallacies aside….
Experience festival has this to say:
Airplanes, like all other vehicles, symbolize a portion of your life’s journey. The part of your life which is represented is usually a memory, material from your unconscious mind, or something that is physically far away from you. Since we use planes to travel to places that are far away, the logical progression of this interpretation is that the airplane is symbolic of an event, individuals, or emotions that are either in the past, physically apart from you, or deep in the unconscious and far from conscious thought. Disturbing dreams in which you are being bombed or where you see a bloody crash scene may be trying to bring up issues and feelings that have been buried in the unconscious mind (from the past or the present) but are still powerful and disturbing to the dreamer. The more powerful, vivid, and disturbing this dream is, the greater the necessity to interpret and obtain a satisfactory meaning.
And the dream wasn’t that disturbing, in fact, I maneuvered the plane quite nicely as jet engines fell from the sky, but it left me feeling uncomfortable as I awoke, which was an early 5:30am. I am happy to sleep in tomorrow, even if ms. Saucerton Dogsface is not. Stinky fart dog. I am definitely dealing with emotions that are in the past for me, the enmeshment I’m trying to detangle myself from, and the abandonment issues suffered as a child. That is not to say I was physically abandoned, but it was my perception of the situation, thus my reality. I think the most difficult thing in dealing with my mom is trying to help her to see that every single person has a different perception of reality, and there are many different realities for many different people. In most basic of terms, some people see all the colors of the rainbow, some see in black and white. The world is very different for each person. That is what makes it beautiful.
So after yet another email, one leaving me speechless with frustration, I took contrary action and replied with a simple “I love you, thank you for supporting me, I will see you soon.” and ended it. This was actually done upon the advice of my father. Who is proving to be very wise and supportive in watching my path of recovery, which I sure really pisses her off. There is no need to continue this feuding because nothing will come of it. As Jilly Beans always tells me “You have some choices. you can choose to react. You can choose to pause. You can choose to not react. You can choose not to choose. There are always choices.” and so I made the choice to pause, and end it. The white flag of surrender is risen, I give up. I do not wish to fly planes through her rainstorm of broken down and burning jets, the fuel is too hot and my sobriety too fresh not to catch fire.