Today’s waxing reminds me of the conversation I had this morning at 7am. Picking up a neighbour to give her a lift to work, she asked me how I’d slept and I told her – Bloody amazing! I slept like the dead! 7 whole hours, it was brilliant! She looks at me – Seriously? Wtf? In what world is 7hrs sleep a good night’s sleep? How much sleep do you usually get? I tell her that I get enough. I don’t divulge figures as I know from experience people start to wonder if I have a cocaine habit or some kind of disorder… (Just for the record – no I don’t and no I don’t, though I’m sure on the second one, there’d be some Dr out there somewhere who’d diagnose me with something or another… But then everyone’s diagnosable with something when sat with someone who is looking to diagnose…)
Last night’s 7hrs were particularly good. They were inky black and dreamless. I hit the pillow then woke a couple of minutes before my alarm sounded. I’d not moved all night or if I had, then I’d managed to full circle back to the same position. I don’t like to be in bed for too long as that means I’m likely to dream and that greatly increases the odds of waking up exhausted… My dreams (or at least the ones I remember) are always vivid… Rarely in places I recognise from anywhere other than dreamscape… Sometimes I have flying dreams… Often I’m walking great distances. I have 3 repetitive dreams… 2 that I’ve cracked the code for and I know what they relate to in my waking life and so when they show up, it’s a clear signal of certain things I need to pay heed to. The 3rd repetitive dream, I rarely delve into thinking about as I’ll just think really? Jogging? Jogging everywhere? Wtf? God did not design me to jog… No no no not even in dreams… And then there’s the lucid dreams… They can be particularly exhausting as I actively change the direction, rewind, alter, rewind, change etc. until OK, this is a good point to wake up now.
Just before I decided to sit down and write this, I detoured into fb memories and found this…
I smile as I remember the guy, I’d completely forgotten about him as next time I went he’d moved job and I got landed with a chocolate teapot of a therapist… I weary sigh as I think – Damn! He was one of the few useful people that I came across during that time… I laugh out loud as I finally solve the meaning of the jogging dream! PACE! Pacing yourself and staying on track without burning out… I have a little moment of gratitude for the physio who’s shown up 5 years on without having to physically be here. It’s good to have helpful guides!
I decided to take a 2nd dip into memories and I came back with this and I share it for no other reason than it made me laugh, so who cares whether or not it fits into my story?