A (Dream) Affair to Regret

So cold my fingers can hardly type. Winter's last hurrah? I hope.

Two nights ago I awoke from a nightmare in which I discovered Richard had a mistress. Last night I awoke from a nightmare in which I almost had sex with another man and I had to tell his wife ("what will happen if I tell her?" "It will ruin everything") and Richard (ditto). Have no idea what these mean. Why him and then me? At least having a scary nightmare is straightforward. You're being chased or attacked or, in the case of my recurring childhood nightmare, smothered. These adult nightmares fraught with grief and guilt are much worse.

Worse too was the exposure. We were in a busy restaurant. The windows were darkened and as the man was unconcerned about all the people dining on the far side of this long cavernous room, I assumed there was some kind of two way mirror separating us. Then the maitre d' came over and asked him just what was he supposed to do (my ersatz lover was the owner) and customers were getting up from their tables in anger, children in tow. I cowered under the covers until someone brought me a sarong. Then his wife came home early, bubbly and too too bright. She had to know. She was my friend. How could I not confess?

One strange aspect which I caught as I was waking was the emotions and actions somehow became fused into colours and shapes which my conscious mind grabbed as a possible painting. The images aren't clear now; swirling vortexes of black red, orange and brown. Not very exciting when within the dream they were vivid and spoke volumes about the emotional context of the dream.

Often with the purchase of Yoga Australia magazine a CD of music or meditations will be attached. Found one I'd pulled off and hadn't listened to and put it on. Listening to song 6, Garuda by Pravana (Eastern Meditation) was one of those moments when it is confirmed yet again that although we may have forgotten, we are gods. What is one definition of God. The Creator. We create every day with every breath, thought and deed. Some of us create for themselves and others; composers, writers, musicians, artists, poets to name a few. Of the arts, music is one of the most sublime, perhaps because it is creation of a thing over time and space that ceases yet leaves an image after it is gone. Garuda was one of those moments. With the first few notes I was transported. The composer had tapped into something which spoke directly to my heart. Would other listeners feel the same? Perhaps not. But the creative instinct within us is as diverse and varied as we ourselves are.

Through some of the darkest times of my life, Debussy was the lifeline to which I clung. An unbreakable connection from darkness to light.