After the Breaking (Blog #516)

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Last night after flying in from DC, I slept at my Aunt Terri’s house in Tulsa, and this morning while trying to figure out her damn espresso machine, I broke the handle off one of her coffee cups. SHHH–don’t say anything. She’s currently at work, and I haven’t told her yet. Anyway, ironically, the cup said, “Life is good.”

Is it? I thought, staring at the broken handle. IS IT?!

Fortunately, unlike me and many of my past relationships, the cup and its handle made a clean break. Also fortunately, I happen to travel with super glue, which I keep in my lesbian toolbox in the back of my car, Tom Collins. So after I scrambled some eggs, made coffee in ANOTHER cup, and ate my breakfast, I glued the broken cup back together, temporarily holding the handle against the cup with a couple of rubber bands I found in a drawer.

There. That was easy.

This morning before waking up, I had a series of dreams. Having chewed on them a good part of this afternoon, I’ll spare you a lot of the details and focus on what I think is most important. First, I began backstage at a theater. I was up high in the shadows, watching. Then I was on the ground floor in a rehearsal space that was brighter and was practicing a cartwheel-type move with a woman. Then I was outside on a large deck in the full light, practicing the same move with a man, who was more powerful and confident than the woman was. Because of his strength, I was concerned he was going to flip me off the deck into the mud–or the unfinished yard–below. Finally, I was in my friend Mary’s kitchen, next to a refrigerator (a common dream symbol for me).

At first glance, I took this dream to be about my work life and being prepared, since first I was watching in the shadows (learning by watching), then I was rehearsing (learning by doing, gently), then I was literally “on deck” or getting ready to do (with power). As for the mud and rocks, I see them as representing the unknown, the unfinished, or that which is to come. Since I relate refrigerators to stored energy or potential, all this would make sense and is probably true. But as dreams can have multiple meanings, I’m considering another possibility, largely due to a statement I read in a book yesterday that said both dreams and life communicate with us through REDUNDANCY. In other words, the universe repeats itself.

In other words, the universe repeats itself.

As I understand it, the idea behind this concept is that when your subconscious is wanting to get a point across, it will bring it to your attention through multiple avenues, including dreams, symbols, experiences, and bodily sensations. With this in mind, I now interpret all of my dreams last night from the viewpoint of “things coming together.” First, the dreams were filled with images of opposites–shadow and light, male and female, inside and outside, confidence and concern. With all these pairs there was a joining, some sort of stage or platform where they–what’s the word?–played together. Even the mud can be seen as a “coming together” of the opposites earth and water. Likewise, a kitchen is where ingredients are joined, and all the more sense that the kitchen in my dream belonged to a woman named Mary–or rather–Marry. (Dreams often speak in puns.)

According to the book I’m reading, since the universe speaks in redundancy, it sends us the same messages in our waking life as it does our sleeping one. If this is true (and I believe it is), it would make sense that immediately after having these dreams about “coming together,” I would break a cup–where?–in my aunt’s KITCHEN and then join the broken pieces back together. Of course, this whole affair is even more stunning for me, since that’s what I think this blog is about–repairing those parts of myself that have been broken off along the way.

Aunt Terri, I’m sorry your hopefully-not-favorite mug had to be sacrificed in order to serve as an illustration of the process I’m going through.

If all this isn’t weird enough, things have gotten even weirder as the day has gone on. For one thing, as I was cleaning up after breakfast, I noticed a bag in my Aunt Terri’s kitchen that said, “Bring your table to life.” And whereas the actual meaning, I think, has to do with bringing LIFE to your table (by putting the company’s food or products on it), I like the slogan literally just as well. Bring YOUR TABLE to life. In other words, start exactly where you are, with all your shadows and broken pieces, then find a way to animate yourself. Find a way to JOIN your shadow to The Light. Find a way to put your broken pieces back together.

I spent this afternoon here in Tulsa looking for books at a fabulous bookstore. And whereas I didn’t find anything I was looking for, I did find two books I WASN’T looking for. Anyway, when I finished book-looking, I went to a Panera Bread (where I am now), since I really haven’t felt superior today and figured coffee would help animate ME. Well, I’ll be damned if I wasn’t just about to get out of my car when I looked over and saw a business named RESURRECT. (It’s a resale store.) And maybe some would call it a coincidence, but I choose to see it–once again–as the universe communicating, since RESURRECTION is what happens after THE SACRIFICE of your old life. It’s what happens after THE BREAKING. Resurrection is the coming back together or The Joining. It’s your new cup. It’s your new life.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You know when someone crosses a line. You may not want to admit it, but you know.

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All of My Refrigerators (Blog #338)

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Last night I watched the movie Wonder and cried all the way through. It’s about a boy with a genetically deformed face and his struggle for acceptance, both from himself and others. The movie is based on the novel (with the same title) by R.J. Palacio, and I actually enjoyed it more than the book. The book is broken up so that each chapter is told by a different character, and although I loved the overall story, I had trouble “settling in” because the point of view kept changing. I never could get past the writing. But that wasn’t a problem last night with the movie. I was totally settled in. I was a mess.

You should watch it and be a mess too.

Today I slept in until one in the afternoon. (It’s two now. I’ve already had breakfast and am currently blogging. I am ON it.) Anyway, I’m teaching and performing tonight at a local USO dance. It’s a fundraiser, and I believe the organizers are planning to whore me out for “$5 dollars dances.” My grandpa was in the Navy, and here’s what he said about whores–“Five dollars, five minutes.” So I guess that will be my slogan for the evening. All this to say that I tried to get as much sleep as possible last night because I plan on being worn out this evening. In the best way, of course.

One of my friends messaged me and said, “Are you psyching yourself up for all the dances tonight?” Except instead of saying “psyching yourself up,” she said “patching yourself up.” (Freaking autocorrect.) I said, “I’ll be patching myself up AFTER.”

I had a lot of dreams last night. Now I can’t stop thinking about them. That’s the damn thing about deciding to pay attention to your dreams (or anyone). Once they see you’re interested, they won’t leave you alone. Give ’em an inch, they’ll take a mile. (Rude, I know.) Anyway, the main dream last night involved my being at a large mansion for some sort of party. First my friends and I had to make it through the gate, this large, wrought-iron deal. Once we made it inside, there were tons of rooms and–get this–tons of refrigerators. More than any one person could ever need. They were inside and outside. It was like an ice-box collection. They were all full of food, and, of course, I was on the search for just the right thing to eat.

My therapist says houses always represent yourself, your life, your physical person. So the fact that I’m dreaming about mansions, I think, is a good thing. Maybe I’m bigger than I realize. It’s obviously taken some work (the iron gate) to get inside, but now that I’m here, maybe it’s almost time for the party (the fun part of life). As for the refrigerators, I’ve been dreaming about them for the last few years. They just show up now and then–usually only one of them–and I’ve never been able to figure out their meaning. I read online that they refer to “cold emotions,” but my therapist says online dream dictionaries (and all dream dictionaries) are bullshit. Anyway, when I woke up this morning, the meaning of the refrigerators was clear as day. I thought, Duh. They represent stored energy. They represent my potential.

I can’t tell you how exciting this revelation is. I just looked at some of my digital dream journals for other refrigerator dreams. In one of them, I was cleaning paint off the outside (getting ready to clean things up). In a later one, the inside of the refrigerator was empty except for some Post-It Notes (meaning I still had things to do). The last time I dreamed about a refrigerator, there were juice bottles inside, but they were empty (I felt like I was out of juice?). In last night’s dream, there wasn’t just one refrigerator, but dozens–inside and outside–and all full of food. I can only assume, since the dream came from my unconscious, that this means I have no idea how much stored energy is waiting to be used in both my interior and exterior life.

You get to hope for a better ending.

That being said, I’m currently exhausted. I’m ready to start dreaming about microwaves, about actually eating some of that food in those refrigerators. (Let’s use that potential!) Still, I’m grateful to see the progression. This is one of the nice things about paying attention to your dreams and (sometimes) writing them down. You get to see that–deep down–something is actually going on with you, that there’s progress being made even when you feel like life is punching you in the gut. Like the movie I watched last night, you get to watch yourself struggle then overcome and find acceptance. As you see your story changing, you get to hope for a better ending than the one you’ve always imagined. You get to believe it could actually come true.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can't build a house, much less a life, from the outside-in. Rather, if you want something that's going to last, you have to start on the inside and work your way out, no matter how long it takes and how difficult it is.

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