Tuesday, August 9, 2011

That Damned Subconscious

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I had the dream last night. You know, the one where you're in school and you've forgotten the combination to your locker. Or you have a huge test to study for but you can't find your textbooks. Or you're late for class, and no matter how fast you try to run, gravity is against you. It clings to your limbs and weighs down your feet as if you're slogging through quicksand. In last night's version, I was to meet one of my mentors, John Searles, at a haunted hotel in the snowy New Hampshire north country. Our meeting set for one o'clock, sharp, because John had a plane to catch, I had somehow lost track of time. At three o'clock, panicking, I ran through gravitational quicksand to the parlor where he'd said to meet, but John, of course, was gone.

Researchers seem to agree that these types of dreams commonly represent worry or anxiety about a major life change. At 23 days out from departure, this is the first time I've had the dream since planning my three-and-a-half month trial move to Brazil. As more and more checkmarks are added to The Official Preparatory To Do List, as each day creeps by, it sinks in deeper that this is actually happening.

Still, the worries remain lodged in the subconscious, chained to a metal bed in a dark room, but that's where they will stay. I refuse to let worry dictate how I'll live my life. There is simply too much to experience, too much to learn about in this world, and so little time to do it.

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