The other night I had one of those dreams that haunt me for days afterward. Though science tells us we are not in REM sleep very long, this dream seemed to go on all night. Most of the specifics of the dream were already forgotten upon waking, and yet there is one detail that still has hold of me.
In the dream I am going about my day--busy as usual. I go to work at the preschool. I run errands. I come home and go to work again. I then go to sporting events, or meetings, or go back to work in the evenings. Fortunately the work I keep mentioning is making art and is as therapeutic as it is necessary for my business to thrive.
Throughout the dream, in each scene of my daily life, I see in the background a small child. Engaged as I am carrying out whatever my duties are at the moment, I do not take the time to follow up on the passing thoughts I have regarding the child. As the dream progresses, the thoughts become more prevalent. Why is that child wandering around alone? Where is the mother? I am not even sure whether the child is male or female since the child's hair is cut short and uneven, as though someone were in a hurry.
Near the end of the dream, while I am in the middle of something that is requiring most of my attention, I suddenly sense the child standing nearby. I look down and gasp. The child is me.
She stands there with tears running down her young face, her pre-plastic surgery lip trembling. The all-too-familiar pixie haircut is as unflattering as ever. Her nondescript shirt and jeans made her look like a boy. Her near-sighted blue eyes look directly into mine, quietly pleading for help. She has just enough color on her freckled face and chopped off red hair to stand out in the room, but not in the confident way children who know they are deeply loved do.
Though it is my natural inclination to comfort a child, as I have learned throughout my tenure as a preschool teacher, as well as in motherhood, I knelt down but then froze in place. There were so many things I wanted to tell her--words of wisdom and comfort, but all I heard myself saying through my tears was that it would be ok, having no idea of whether or not that was what she needed to hear or even if it was true.
In the dream I am going about my day--busy as usual. I go to work at the preschool. I run errands. I come home and go to work again. I then go to sporting events, or meetings, or go back to work in the evenings. Fortunately the work I keep mentioning is making art and is as therapeutic as it is necessary for my business to thrive.
Throughout the dream, in each scene of my daily life, I see in the background a small child. Engaged as I am carrying out whatever my duties are at the moment, I do not take the time to follow up on the passing thoughts I have regarding the child. As the dream progresses, the thoughts become more prevalent. Why is that child wandering around alone? Where is the mother? I am not even sure whether the child is male or female since the child's hair is cut short and uneven, as though someone were in a hurry.
Near the end of the dream, while I am in the middle of something that is requiring most of my attention, I suddenly sense the child standing nearby. I look down and gasp. The child is me.
She stands there with tears running down her young face, her pre-plastic surgery lip trembling. The all-too-familiar pixie haircut is as unflattering as ever. Her nondescript shirt and jeans made her look like a boy. Her near-sighted blue eyes look directly into mine, quietly pleading for help. She has just enough color on her freckled face and chopped off red hair to stand out in the room, but not in the confident way children who know they are deeply loved do.
Though it is my natural inclination to comfort a child, as I have learned throughout my tenure as a preschool teacher, as well as in motherhood, I knelt down but then froze in place. There were so many things I wanted to tell her--words of wisdom and comfort, but all I heard myself saying through my tears was that it would be ok, having no idea of whether or not that was what she needed to hear or even if it was true.
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