Well, this large package when opened turns out to be a musical instrument. But what kind? It's no kind anyone has ever played before. It fit in my hands perfectly, and was small like a ukelele, but squared off at the end. The neck of it was just like any guitar, but my little fingers could wrap around and reach perfectly. When I went to strum it, I found that instead of guitar strings it had twine. When I strummed it, it made no sound that anyone would want to hear, that's for sure.
Someone near me on that lawn said, "Well, we will have to get you some strings." Next thing I knew, we were putting the strings on as I have seen my brother do so often. When I picked it up again, it was entirely different. I strummed it, and it made a better sound, but I looked down and my fingers were coated with crimson- I could not stop bleeding! Next thing, I was in the emergency room where I worked, and my co workers were rebuking me for doing something so stupid.
"Why did you even pick up that dangerous thing?" Stephen said.
"Kelly, you're smarter than that. Look what you've done to yourself now!" Sandy was shaking her head so disappointed.
My answer back to them was, "It doesn't hurt that much. Really." It didn't. Only a little.
Now, as I'm thinking back on this and what it might truly mean, I hear a quote from one of my favorite writers, Willie Morris. He said that sometimes writing is like opening a main and bleeding. I keep turning that phrase over and over in my mind. That is the key I think to understanding this whole strange dream, but some of the details I know are important, too.
For instance, the instrument being so unusual is significant. I'm struggling to maintain my individuality in my writing, yet to effectively communicate, one has to conform a bit. The strings being twine represents, I think, that as of this moment, I'm simply a poet and not a lyricist. I want to write SONGS, but I can not force my brain to work that way. I do not think in notes; I'm musically illiterate. I want the tool of music to add the power and depth that it can, and yet it is just not in my tool box, so to speak. Also important is this- my work in the ER is quite at odds with my writing. I can give up neither just for the sake of the one. Couldn't afford to even if I wanted to!
May 30, 2005 10:00 am
Come to think of it, I'm not so sure it was a concert. Details are starting to come back as I write this. I think it was more a lecture on culture. But that doesn't make sense as lectures are never formal type events, are they? Sometimes dreams change up in the middle, so maybe it was at first a concert, then became a lecture. Who knows! Anyway, after her instructing me at length on what sort of dress to wear, I dashed back out the front door to find my ride had left me. With the lecture on dressing, I guess they got tired of waiting!
When I go back in, I tell this, and the response from Nana, Mama, and Coy (my aunt) is, "Well, now you have plenty of time to go shopping." Hmmm!? I suppose to be at work, but they want me to go shopping for an evening gown to attend a lecture? I woke up soon after that. Would have been nice to find out if found a gown that suited the three of them, whether it was a concert or lecture (something else entirely by the end of it) and if I got in major trouble at work for not getting back to finish my shift.
I have heard that when you have a dream about a relative that has passed on, then it is a visit from them. I don't think, though that their was anything significant in this that would be an actual statement. The only item I can glean from it is, "Don't think so much about work, and dress better." That doesn't sound like wisdom from beyond to me, so I'm going to say that maybe on this I was just thinking about my grandmother.
Sunday June 12, 2005 1:30 PM
Riding over Hills....Not a pleasure ride, but with a group and the mood was very serious; perhaps angry and frustrated. We were in a hurry, and all running from something. Our horses pulled the hills easily. My mind in the dream was focused on the horse, but I was also aware of the others around me. I can't remember what they were wearing or who they were... All I know is that we were not sparing the horses and we were on the run. There was shouting, and we were all soaked to the bone. It was not raining, but it had been. I don't have this dream anymore.
After Dark Pleasure Riding... I have only had this one once since my college years....It is dark, and the moon is shining on the tops of the hills. It's all silvery like and really pretty! I remember that best of all. If I was a painter, I could paint the image because that is how clearly I see it, even now. There is a girl with me who laughs a lot. Giggles would be a better word. It seemed like everything I said, she thought it was funny. I wish I'd kept a dream journal in college so I might have recorded some details of this. I wish I could remember what it was I was saying to her that was so hilarious, just to have a good laugh now and then if nothing else!
None of the staff at this place was all that worked up either. I was the only one, and what could I do? Nothing but try to get them to do what they're supposed to do, and they wouldn't take it seriously. I kept saying, "We need to get the Dr, right?" and "Can't I at least put in for some X-rays or something?" Everyone just kept looking at me like I was overreacting.
I really don't know what is up with this dream. It was strange, and I'm used to strange dreams. This one bothered me quite a bit. I woke up feeling very frustrated. I'm not sure I even want to figure this one out.
Friday, June 17, 2005