Day 106: Thresholds
During this global pandemic, I’m having dreams with a constant theme: I’m rushing to catch a plane/train/bus. Maybe I catch it, but then I realize I’m on the wrong plane/train/bus. Or, I never catch it and there are a series of events that keep setting me further away from getting me to where I need to be.
When I lived in Peoria, Illinois I joined a dream group, organized through my Universalist Unitarian church. There were some really smart people in this group who taught me how to reflect on my dreams. We met a few times a month and shared our intimacies. I came to understand dreams in this way: that whatever happens in our dreams, even if we’re dreaming about someone else, ultimately it’s ourselves we are dreaming about. Our dreams are an unconscious look at ourselves.
So I learned how to ask questions about my dreams in relation to myself.
With the recurring dream that I’m having now about missing the train/plane/bus I’ve asked myself where in my life do I feel like I’m missing out. Where am I missing the opportunity? And, not what obstacles are in my way, but rather, What obstacles am I putting in my own way?
Another dream that I’ve had for many years, a recurring dream, is that I’ve got a big, sticky wad of gum in my mouth and it’s preventing me from speaking.
I know that I find it very difficult to speak my truth, especially in work-related situations. I let resentments build, until I explode, or don’t explode and they just keep festering. I know this happened this past school year—I didn’t always speak my truth about how I differed philosophically about teaching, or on an evaluation about my performance, even though I had the opportunity to respond. In the wish to be liked, I remained silent. I struggle with the how of voicing an opinion, fearing rejection or worse.
Last month, a theme at our UU church was “thresholds.” Our minister, Rev. Linda Peebles, asked us to think about this pandemic as a threshold. She called it a “unique threshold” and said that we’ve left the old ways of doing things, of traveling and being entertained. And that we get to pause, and reflect, and we don’t need to rush to move to the next place. It may be rocky because we have no control over what will change or happen. But we can still fill up the moments by looking around us. She called this threshold “sacred.” She challenged us to find our balance, to soak in the poems, the music, the orange currant scones, the strawberry roulade (that’s my take) and the pause itself. And to reflect on what is in our lives, rather than what isn’t. In a way, it’s a moment to celebrate.
I guess my dreams are an indication of my threshold. I have an opportunity to pause while I move out of one space and into another, and to think about what obstacles I’m creating that prevent me from getting to where I need to go. This is my opportunity to decide how I’m going to remove them and what I’m going to do once I get there.
In the meantime, I can also celebrate. My celebration today was making orange currant scones and assembling a strawberry roulade. I called everyone together from their various corners of the house and we enjoyed the roulade outside, together.
The dough, on the threshold.
With Billy’s cranberry spice jam
I had spongecake left over from my tiramisu. I also had a smidgen of mascarpone cheese. I macerated the strawberries, and voila. A strawberry roulade.
The ease with which this cake rolled up makes me wonder why it took me 55 years to make it for the first time. So much fun.
My family was just around the corner from this wall. Lucky me.
