It Has Been A While

I haven't written personal things online in a while. I have several things I want to write about but life keeps intruding and I am still adjusting to a full-time job, a part-time job, being on medication, and living alone. But I've got two dreams to share with you and some blog posts that will make an appearance over the weekend.

Both dreams occurred this week and I think they're highly symbolic, but I'm having a more difficult time interpreting them. Maybe you have some thoughts?

Dream #1:

I was back in the Village (trailer park I moved out of in February IRL), packing. I was moving out that day and my family were there, taking the things I packed out to the moving van. I went outside to dig up the little rosebush, in full bloom with bright red roses.

I turned it upside down in a vase to protect the flowers. Stu saw that and shook his head. "You know what to do," he said. I took it out, knowing he was right, and tried to scoop some dirt into a box already half full of magazines. He looked at it and said, "dig deeper".

So I thrust my hand into the box and pushed aside the magazines and papers, scooping more dirt into the box so the rosebush would have enough dirt to survive the journey.

LATER:

I was in a hospital, wandering the halls. I went back to my room, where my body was lying on its side. It was clothed in jeans and a black tee. My mom could see me, as could the staff. They were telling me about my body, which had been stabbed.

"It wants to live," they said. "It was a long time recovering, but your body fought to survive."


Dream #2:

I was wandering a gallery/antique mall with my family in North Carolina that we had visited on a past trip. I went to my favorite gallery but discovered it was being renovated for another artist. I took down the new things (more kitsch and country than the European art I had loved before) to find my favorite, a painting of a smiling, dark-haired Duchess (IRL the painting is at El Prado in Madrid).

When the gallery/antique mall owners saw that I was trying to find a way to display my favorite while putting the kitsch and country art back up, I thought I would get in trouble, but instead they put me to work on an art installation that someone else had not completed.

LATER:

I dreamed my family and I were at a house similar to the one I spent part of my senior year of highschool in - a barn-like structure in South Carolina. I dreamed my mother was in a bedroom giving birth to my youngest brother.

When he was born, we wrapped him up but he wanted to move and he kept growing faster and faster. Soon he was old enough to start walking and I followed him around trying to get him to stay out of trouble. There were swarms of wasps racing through the porch, there were farm animals that he wanted to play with that could hurt him, and there were big farm machines that he wanted to climb into and operate.

I spent hours trying to get him to understand that there were so many dangerous things he was not allowed to interact with and he just happily kept escaping and getting into mischief. I had just convinced him that I would take him on a ride on the big tractor when I noticed he had disappeared under the house.

My grandpa was there but that didn't stop me from yelling, "F*@#$%K!!!"

Grandpa merely laughed at me, and dismissed my apology. I, meanwhile, was busy crawling under the house attempting to save my brother from certain disaster.

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...I think I'm beginning to see some things in the first dream and the first part of the second dream, but I don't really know what to do with the information. Anybody?