The next adventure

Last week I read an article on the top 10 most common dreams and their meanings. It reminded me of a recurring dream that I used to have, particularly as I was starting my recovery. It went something like this –

I am in my flat. I find a door that I haven’t noticed before and discover three or four unexplored new rooms. At first, the rooms are dated and unwelcoming, and two of them are kitchens, often filthy and filled with food. The dreams are deeply unsettling and I wake up feeling displaced and like something has tarnished my home. Eventually (over a few years) the rooms change and become full of amazing things– like a piano or a spectacular view or a fireplace – and I wake up a bit disappointed that they don’t really exist.

I was telling a friend about this dream when it was visiting me, nightly, and she interpreted it as symbolic of self discovery. As mirroring the process that I was going through of uncovering new parts of my self –

They are there, waiting: it’s just a question of seeing what’s behind the doors.

I have been struck, recently, by this notion of the self. That we might only know the areas that we have already opened, and there are therefore parts of ourselves waiting to be unlocked. It suggests that there is a step beyond self awareness or consciousness which, when I have let go of the knee-jerk fear, is kind of exciting…

I have had three half written posts on my desktop for a while now. This was one of them. The second was a link. I think they are connected. The link goes to this quote:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us”. (Marianne Williamson).

The quote holds me hostage. It is so exactly how I feel – and have felt – that I was too overwhelmed to mention it, at the time. It captures the moment just before I went into self sabotage; and, possibly, is uncomfortably close to what I am feeling now…
The third post was about last weekend. I went dancing, last weekend, on the spur of the moment. It was a sparkling night when I was unusually spontaneous and, for a short time, deliciously carefree. It struck me, as I woke up the next morning, that all the rules and limitations that I have been living by are self imposed. That it might be okay, just for a little while, to wander with no direction and learn what it feels like to relax and have fun….

I think I am on the edge of letting go.

Not there yet, but nearly.

I think I have been trying to stamp out any potential or, at least, iron cage it – and I am curious, now, about what would happen if I stepped out of the constraints. The possibility makes me slightly shaky and might explain why the struggle has stepped up a notch over the past few months…

I can stamp it out, again, as I did however many years ago. Or I can take a deep breath and adventure on.

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7 Responses to “The next adventure”

  1. j says:

    Wow. I can’t tell you how beautiful I think this post is. I absolutely love your concept of self, the idea that there are more rooms to be discovered.

    Of course, this line makes my heart sing: “It was a sparkling night when I was unusually spontaneous and, for a short time, deliciously carefree.” It’s kind of a big thing to be in that place even momentarily. It’s a place we should all be trying to get to. Frequently.

    Our cares will find us, of course, they must. I remember when I took a class in running (I know, I’m a dork) and the instructor said don’t worry about breathing in. That will happen automatically. Gasping is reflex. Consciously exhale. Control that part.

    I never became a good runner, but I think that’s how life works. Our tendency to inhale, tense, gasp, seize up is reflexive. Focus on our exhales – our sighs, our laughter, our words – all the ways in which we breathe out into the world. Dance.

    You’ve given me so much to think about. I love how your mind works. <3

  2. *thousands of hugs*

    I wish you well.

  3. James says:

    In brief, this is a brilliant and empowering post that really resonates with me personally right now. (I won’t go into my own doors of self-discovery and personal letting go/constraints cast off issues – let’s just say it all feels very potent at present).

    On with the adventure. Take a deep breath and boldly go in spite of the fears onto exciting new things… :D

  4. Becky says:

    This is great, as usual. I love that you’re stretching yourself as a person and as a writer.
    I need to read this a few more times… thank you for giving it to us to ponder.

  5. LittleFeet says:

    Oh, Melissa. I like, no, I love this post.

    Keep adventuring m’dear, keep adventuring…

  6. Evan says:

    What a wonderful place to be. Looking forward to hearing the next instalment in the story!

  7. Melissa says:

    J – the analogy has it’s own story. I was a violinist when I was younger and I had to stop because of nerves – and the nerves manifested themselves in forgetting to breathe. That feeling of holding it all in and tension has characterised a lot of my life so breathing (literally and metaphorically) is exactly what I need – and want – to start doing.

    And just so you know, I love your thinking too.

    Sanabituranima – thank you. xx

    James – I’m glad this makes sense – and that you too are adventuring. Go bravely too… :)

    Thank you Becky – your comment means a lot. This was one of those posts where I wondered, before pressing publish, whether it would actually make sense to anyone else – so I’m so glad it’s given people something to think about.

    LittleFeet – Thanks :) And I totally will.