After a long day of once again searching for a sense of worth, I had a dream. . . .
Doctor Jones (my two-year-old baby girl) called to me from the front room. "Mama. Mama. Look!"
I ran into the glowing room. A window rested open and the wind danced through, making my baby's curly brown hair sway. The maroon and golden curtain swept the floor next to her tip-toed, chubby feet. The hardwood floors seemed a bit misty from the dust particles the sunrays illuminated.
"What are you doing, baby?" I asked, because she held an arrangement of sorts up to the light streaming through the window.
This is the exact arrangement she held in my dream (without the vase):
"What are you doing?" I asked again.
"I'm making art," she squealed, so very proud of herself. The arrangement looked ordinary until it hit the light, then it glistened so only the best parts gleamed.
But as I looked at her, the arrangements she thought was so beautiful was not the art. It was her. She looked like an angelic figurine, tiptoed and straining toward the sun.
I watched her for a long time, wondering over the deeper meaning, then I woke up.
I know this dream could mean so many things. My daughter could represent the person I want to be inside, striving for the sun, thinking I'm making something that will transform my worth--when (like everyone) worth is already inside. Or it could show how the arrangement was always exceptional, it just needed to be near the window. We can take the good instead of focusing on the bad.
It also made me reflect on how special each of us are. God has given us gifts and talents, sometimes it's just hard to realize that no matter what we do, we are God's art--and that's one of the greatest things I can imagine. Remember Pandora, created by Hephaestus? That tale always made me wonder, how would it feel to have been created for a purpose? But we all are--entertwining, fitting into a puzzle we often don't understand until much later. Even my son Zeke, who lived a few short months. We all have a purpose. Without Zeke, I would have never pursued my dream of writing. I would be a completely different person. His life had meaning.
What do you take from this dream? Do you see any deeper symbolism here?
I look forward to your feedback.
But as I looked at her, the arrangements she thought was so beautiful was not the art. It was her. She looked like an angelic figurine, tiptoed and straining toward the sun.
I watched her for a long time, wondering over the deeper meaning, then I woke up.
I know this dream could mean so many things. My daughter could represent the person I want to be inside, striving for the sun, thinking I'm making something that will transform my worth--when (like everyone) worth is already inside. Or it could show how the arrangement was always exceptional, it just needed to be near the window. We can take the good instead of focusing on the bad.
It also made me reflect on how special each of us are. God has given us gifts and talents, sometimes it's just hard to realize that no matter what we do, we are God's art--and that's one of the greatest things I can imagine. Remember Pandora, created by Hephaestus? That tale always made me wonder, how would it feel to have been created for a purpose? But we all are--entertwining, fitting into a puzzle we often don't understand until much later. Even my son Zeke, who lived a few short months. We all have a purpose. Without Zeke, I would have never pursued my dream of writing. I would be a completely different person. His life had meaning.
What do you take from this dream? Do you see any deeper symbolism here?
I look forward to your feedback.
This dream COULD be you as Doctor Jones, or Doctor Jones as you see her. There is beauty in both versions!
ReplyDeleteI agree with the Fishduck. It is you. You create art and see that as the thing of beauty but still doubt yourself. Dr
ReplyDeleteJones saw the beauty of the art only but you could see both.
Yeah shows your inner self as the art you create rings through.
ReplyDeleteInteresting I am not that good at dreams I have never been one to read to much into dreams.......that said your dream sounds so beautiful.........
ReplyDeleteI took from your dream the thoughts of "what is life?" You question the beauty of life in the latter part of your blog. The innocence of both your children were obviously an integral part of your dream. Your self worth is what was standing before you, your daughter and the creativity of life itself. The dream makes one stop and think, perhaps muse over their own significance in this crazy world of ours. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI thought what fishducky said before I read her comment.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
I don't believe in interpreting dreams, or worrying about them, what they may mean and so on. Dreams are wonderful, they add scenes to our waking lives that I feel are there for a reason, to be let alone, to just flow while we are asleep. I believe they help us in their own way, but if we, as we tend to do with so much, have to analyze them, interpret them I think they may lose their value. I believe everything has meaning, nothing in nature is worthless, no humans, animals, trees, not even a grain of sand.
ReplyDeleteYou wrote in journals before you decided to write your books. Your son had worth as his life and death was your inspiration to publish your story and help others by doing so. I am holding off reading Homeless until 2013 as it will bring worth to me as part of my book challenges.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Inger, I don't believe in interpreting dreams, though I'm sure that is one way our subconscious communicates with us. YOur dream sounds very beautiful and I would treasure it for what it is, a glimpse into your inner self.
ReplyDeleteMy new blog is
http://alexslivinglife.blogspot.com
xoxoxo