This week I moved out of my old apartment in Lincoln Square and into transitional quarters in the home of friends here in Chicago. I will be here until just over one week from today, whereupon I shall go to Maryland for two weeks to work as a substitute teacher once again (stay tuned for "kids say the darnedest thing" posts), and visit family and friends before hopping a plane to Iceland to visit more family and friends. I'm quite tired after this busy week, but it wrapped up nicely yesterday after working, watching the beginning of a thunderstorm from sixteen stories up, stopping in at an Easter mass to take advantage of some meditation and renewal time, and a delicious dinner with two of the girls and a dude, before going home and sleeping, sleeping, sleeping and dreaming wild, strange dreams all night.
Speaking of dreams... I once met a Native American spiritual leader named Running Elk in Redwood City, California, who talked to me about the difference between regular dreams and visions. According to him (and I happen to agree), visions differ from dreams in that they are messages which entwine with and are inseparable from our waking reality. There were, indeed, visions last night that stood out from the chaos of the ordinary dreams and brought some wisdom to this transitional time. In fact, it was an unusually full house in the Unconscious Theater of Inga last night. (Now there's a story waiting to be written. I call dibs!) There were gods who appeared in the form of animals (a falcon, a baby, and a black goat, respectively), a visit from The All-Father, dark blue robe and all, giving me advice about which way on the path was the right one for me, followed by a quick conversation with the Man Himself, sandals and all (which provided a nice balance). I can't remember the exact words those two told me, but I do recall that both conversations were encouraging and stabilizing. A woman who was with child and stood at a kitchen counter chopping vegetables said that I had the three symptoms that she experienced before finding out she was pregnant (one of which was startling a large snail whose shell was a pair of bright blue flip-flops). She found it difficult to believe me when I told her in no uncertain terms that my being pregnant was just not possible at this time. Three tiny, blue-eyed frogs gave me a drink of their own water and I took a ride on a dark horse. There were many more animals than usual. I enjoy thinking about interesting dreams and wondering about potential meanings. But I also remember to wake up and keep at least one-and-a-half of my feet here in the present moment. I definitely do not want to get lost in there.
I'm making sure to do as little as possible today, because I have lots of work ahead of me and need to get rest whenever I can. After a strange couple of months where I couldn't seem to snap out of one reverie or another, I am now back in my body, feeling motivated, and reminding myself to shine my light. Committing myself to writing, not only my forthcoming Big Project (which I refuse to call by the name "book" so as not to intimidate myself), but also potential comedy sketch-writing classes at Second City, experiments in non-fiction, and I may even attempt a play, in addition to taking my science pre-requisites to qualify for nursing school. In doing so, I force myself to embrace my own personal brand of "charming eccentricity" (which is a nice way to say "babbling insanity") and to cut loose creatively. I'm going to write the things I've wanted to write for ages but haven't for fear of how they would be received, stride toward goals where I've previously dragged my feet for fear of failure (and its much scarier cousin, success), and, in short, do what I want to do because I suddenly find it very difficult to do anything else. Maybe it's the gradually returning sunlight, or maybe pollen has burst into the Midwestern spring air, dusted my brain and sent me into a mild manic episode of some sort, but the sensation of increasing energy is refreshing and clarifying, and I fully intend to ride this wave as far as it will take me. I was ready to stop hibernating.
All right, well, not a very amusing post this time and more like a diary entry than something for the internet (because I never talk about personal things like my hair, the size of my thighs, or what certain liquors make me do), but I just thought I'd post it to say, "Hello, I am here. I may be busy, but I haven't forgotten and wanted to check in."