I finally got strong-armed into updating WordPress to the latest version. As expected, it took me half the day to figure out how to get the site looking like it did before. As far as I can tell, the only remaining issue is that the posts I’ve cut and pasted from MS Word are all messed up, with apostrophes and other punctuation turning into different symbols. Oh well — the price of progress, I suppose.
My wife and I have not yet come to a decision about where we will be moving this fall. There are so many things to factor in, and much depends on my job situation. My dreams have been more intense and memorable these past few nights. Wednesday night I dreamed I was driving down a country road in the middle of the night. To my utter surprise, I saw my old VW Van — Good Ol’ Bessy — parked on the side of the road. I pulled over to make sure she was the real deal. Sure enough, Bessy was just as I last saw her on that dreary afternoon, a little over a year ago, when I sold her to a heavy-set hippie from Virginia. Impulsively, I hopped inside and started her up, using a spare key I held on to for just such an occasion. There seemed to be no one around, so I decided to take a little joy ride, for old times sake. I went a few miles down the road, absolutely elated to be cruising around in Old Bess again. I turned around with the intention of returning the van and heading back home in the Corolla I arrived in. It was very dark though, and as I searched along the side of the road, I couldn’t find the car. A panic set in, as I realized I was committing a fairly serious crime. Not knowing what else to do, however, I drove home in the van, feeling somewhat excited to be living on the edge.
I don’t remember much else from the dream, only that my parents (especially my mother) strongly disapproved of my crime and whatever related decisions I was making about my life. I felt rebellious and misunderstood, frustrated about having to justify myself to my parents or anyone.
These days I seem to let every anxious thought and image take my mind for a ride. I know life transitions can be stressful, but I’m a little disappointed in myself that I’m so utterly unable to maintain a sense of groundedness and equanimity in the face of doubts and fears. Of course, I’m not doing the things I know I need to do — i.e. meditate, write, body-work — in order stay rooted when the whirl-wind blows through.
So, here we go again…
