Two of my children had terrible dreams about me recently, within days of one another, one about the mangling of my limbs and the other one, my unfortunate demise. And my children shared their dreams with me, in vivid detail. I have always championed open, authentic, vulnerable communication within our family. I do not care to have distant, facade-y relationships with the people who I love more than life itself. Still, this is information that took my breath away and made me question whether “at arm’s length” relationships are, perhaps, the safer way to go in life. The nightmare-shares also had me running to Google (as fast as my legs could carry me), trying to find a positive dream translation/slant that resonated enough with me, in order to still my quickened, strongly, beating heart. (Omg! The dreams were a premonition. Heart attack. So this is how it ends . . . )
Actually, I am obviously still alive. And my heart did slow down as I pieced together some dream translations, both from on-line sources and my own innate in-soul sources, and I decided (I’m a good self soother, even if it takes a dose of delusion) that I had figured out why these terrible dreams had come into being. Both of my dreamers, are on the cusp of particularly big, life changes. My son is embarking on the upcoming daunting task of taking the MCAT and applying to medical schools. My daughter is getting more and more proficient at driving as she gets closer and closer to the date when she can take her driving test and earn her driver’s license. My babies are taking larger steps than their usual smaller steps towards more independence and freedom away from our once seemingly unyielding, impenetrable family unit. They have witnessed their other siblings rolling off into their own directions, as well, loosening up our family’s tightly bound ball of string into a more spread, slackened, loosened pile of twine. Further, I think that my children can sense my own loosening, and my allowing for the opening and spreading of wings, for them and for me. My children may sense my own searching for neglected parts of myself. (My husband questioned this part of the dream translation until I reminded him that these children grew in my body – the intimacy that pregnancy creates often allows mothers and children to communicate without words, sometimes for the rest of our lives.) And while all of this unbinding is needed for our each of our own individual growths, and while that doesn’t, at all, mean that we won’t always be deeply connected in some shape or form, the fears of the unknown creep in. And if we don’t face the fears consciously, they show up in our dreams.
In the end, however, some things never change. In my best calming, comforting tones, I reminded my children that everything is alright. I will always Love them, for all of eternity, no matter what. And my darlings, “It was just a dream.”