On the Way to Reading, Massachusetts

 

Daydreaming in Maine

This morning I slept in until 8:32am.  I popped out of bed like I usually do only to notice both the dog and my husband, who is a notorious late-sleeper were nowhere to be seen.  I could hear them kicking around in the kitchen downstairs.  And then I started laughing.  Outloud laughing at the dream I had just awoken from.  We all dream every night.  We just don't always remember our nighttime reverie and I rarely remember anything other than breathing as I slumber.  Probably related to the fact that I have a serious case of childhood amnesia.  I just push shit to the side and don't remember.  I guess it's how I cope.  But I do believe dreams are like projectives of where you are at emotionally.  Sometimes they can shed light on what you need to work on.  So my total recollection of the dream that was racing through my brain like a primetime movie as I slept in this morning was significant. And funny.  

On the Way to Reading 

I have been retired six years this month.  I used to work in a school with the most troubled kids, the ones who'd run down the hall barefoot and poop in timeout.  It's a whole other story but they were my peeps.  We had similar upbringings and met on a level of consciousness known only to us.  So, this dream takes me back there to that school. At the beginning, a colleague hands me an adorable little black and white cat with huge pointy ears.  Both ears have diamond studs in them.  He says to me, "Can you get my cat home?"  I nod.  Next scene it occurs to me that I am not driving home, rather I am taking the train.  I wonder if I can get the cat on the train.  Now, I live in a small town in Maine.  It was a six minute drive from where I worked in the real world.  With bejeweled kitten in hand my dreamland self approached a train conductor.  "Say, I have to get this cat to Reading."  As I retold this dream to my laughing husband he wondered, "Reading?" I said, "Yeah, like in Reading, Massachusetts."  Which is 52 miles from the bed where I drempt this wild story up.  In light traffic, which it is now as I retell this story, it would take 46 minutes by car.  I actually could take a train from Reading but I'd have to ride it 3 hours and 47 minutes, bypass my hometown, ending up in Portland, Maine.  Then I'd have to drive or taxi or Uber 45 minutes by car back to my home.  So you get the picture.  Reading is hard to get to and way out of the way from the bed where I dreamt about this cute little cat with diamond earrings needing to hop a train.  Well, back to the story, the train guy was super nice and sent me over to another guy.  A big train door opens and he says, "Sure. We can transport the cat. That'll be $5. And here is a bag of black and yellow outfits for your cat to put on."  I grabbed the bag of yellow and black cat outfits like it was as normal as giving my husband a big kiss.  Furthermore, I was pleasantly surprised that the cat could get to Reading so easily via train and how accommodating everybody was.  And for only $5.  And somehow I just put the cat on the train and headed off for home.  Next scene my husband showed up to pick me up.  That's when I realized the cat should have come with me and not have been sent with black and yellow outfits to Reading.  So I marched right over to the train office.  My husband sat down on a chair in a row of seats a few feet away and began an animated conversation with a silver-haired man.  So like his awakened self.  The woman behind the counter eyed me suspiciously.  "Whad'ya need?"  "Well,"  I began my story which made so much sense to my slumber self.  "I sent my colleague's cat to Reading and I should have sent it to my hometown in Kittery, Maine."  I stared at the woman.  She tipped her head to one side and then said, "Let me call."  She picks up the phone and calls the train.  I waited thinking, What possessed me to send that cute little cat with diamonds in it's ears to Reading?"  After a few moments which felt like seven trains could have traveled from Kittery to Reading and back, she hung up the phone.  "So, yes your cat is in Reading and they will be sending her back."  I thanked her and turned around amazed.  And then turned back to face her.  Now both she and her friend at an adjoining desk, older ladies with a fair amount of weight to them, were looking at me.  "So would it help you if I sent a letter to both you?"  I pointed to the guy who gave me the $5 ticket and armload of black and yellow cat suits. "And him to get a letter of thank you sent to your boss?"  She laughed and beckoned me to the left side of her table.  She turned to her colleague who smiled.  On a yellow sticky she began to write her boss' name.  "Oh no, that won't help!"  Both she and her colleague burst into laughter and I woke up.  

What the Hell Does that all Mean?  

First of all, anybody asking you about your dream should first asks, "What does it mean to you?"  Because I can dream of body-flying over the mountains and that means I'm feeling free and if you dream it,  it might mean you are groundless and on drugs.  Life has been a challenge these past few months.  Death seemed to have just surrounded me.  Loss and so much to grieve and let go.  The pandemic, cancer, war, political infighting akin to third graders while inflation roars, gas prices hit outrageous amounts.  Selling property, pipes bursting, seeing and interacting with family I am sure I can't share DNA with.  My body was erupting with unexpressed emotion and I had few skills to emote.  I didn't want to eat myself silly as a means to self medicate.  I didn't want to go on a shopping spree, take drugs, start traveling like a homeless vagabond.  Or have senseless sex.  Well, maybe a little of that.  Over the course of several painful months I have surfaced a different person.  True I quit reading the news for more than a 10-minute checkin each day.  And, I have quit social media.  And I have upped my workouts, yoga and meditation.  And am careful who I surround myself with.  But this dream to me lays out how in the midst of swirling weirdness and worse, people and life are there to respond in a positive way.  I am not just up in a tree with no ladder.  "Can you take my friend's black and white kitten with diamond ear studs to Reading?"  "Yes."  "Oops can you find my friend's cat who I mistakenly sent to Reading?" "Yes." There are a shiit-ton of "No!" in life. But maybe more "Yes" than I have ever known or dared to believe before.  Life is not all cancer and death, misunderstandings and insensitive words, immature grownups leading the countries of the world, and hardship.  Yes.  It's there.  But not always.  And there is an amazing transactional nature in life.  You help me and I help you.  It's like I am finding a new faith in life and reaching for a little hope.  Thanks to that little cat on the way to Reading for helping me see what's percolating somewhere deep within my psyche.