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One of those triggering conversations from earlier in the day, plus reviewing Riff-Raff as I fell asleep for my nap and the dream.
In my dream, I was about 8, I think. I had a decent, good enough, vocabulary, at least. There were many challenges in my dream. Some I met with great success and some I met with complete failure. Always though, I ventured forth without worry or concern. I tried new things easily. I mastered some, became competent at others and barely adequate at still others. For a very few things, I could gain no skill at all.
The challenges were all adult sized challenges, though. And challenges from my real life mixed in with other challenges from the standard set. A couple of real life ones: Becoming a HAI intern. Taking on Head Coach in the SELP. Joining CI. Performing Dr. Scott and now Riff.
In my dream, many people, all of them real in my life, were there for each challenge. The specific challenges had specific people. The standard, generic challenges had a small, but consistent cast of characters.
In waking life, I have worked and overcome the need to look good, or rather, the need to not look really bad. In my teens, this was at paranoia levels for reasons I have already written about in my journal. This was not a dream about success or failure, though, as it might have been if looking good were the game at hand. And my age in this dream is well before I hit that wall at age 11.
No. In this dream, I was in my glory years of childhood. Life was really good when I was 8. Great friends and sweeties. My sister was my protector and I idolized her. My brother took me places on his Vespa and we hung out. It was really, really good.
But there was something missing and I found it in this dream.
It's not acceptance I've been looking for all these years. I have always been accepted. I've been welcomed into communities even when I didn't think I fit well. That was a long standing story I've told myself and others. Nope. Not that.
It's not "if I can do it." It's not even "if I can do it well." It's "will X be proud of me." And some adolescent "Will X like me" thrown in.
My dad was not emotionally expressive. He seldom showed anger or even agitation. He practically never scolded. But neither did he display enthusiasm and he never praised. Around my father, one could feel safe and loved. But I had no idea if anything I did met with satisfaction or even approval. He died before I joined the Navy. At each milestone, I would think, "I wonder if Dad would be proud of me." I had that thought again at my brother's funeral when I saw my father's headstone.
My mother was very expressive, but nothing good could be said without saying ten things bad. With her, nothing could be good enough. Nothing. And she was cruel about it. There's enough evidence to assert that she was intentionally cruel about it.
At every milestone in my dream, there were my parents. My mother saying, "You really smart, but you have no practical sense" or "Your really smart, but you are lazy, clumsy and worthless." And Dad would look on and say and do nothing.
In real life, when I married the first time, my mother expressly told my first wife to be that she was worthless but the best I could do. To me, she said, "You've got your head up you ass if you think you love her."
Anyway, the specific events I listed from my dream.
HAI intern. It took me five years to become a HAI intern. I had to be good enough for Chip August, one of the facilitators, to be proud of me before I submitted an application.
SELP Head Coach (and I'm in the pipe line to be an SELP leader). Would Tamara (my current SELP Leader) and Linda (First SELP leader and Center Manager) be proud of me.
All things Rocky. Will Amy be proud of me.
Trannie: Will Chrys be proud and will she like me.
Dr. Scott: Will both Amy's be proud of my performance.
Riff. This one is/was complicated. Both Amys and the Nelson boys for proud. Kim, Nicole, and the other Magentas for liking me.
Then I awoke.
And it's like it hit me over the head. What slows me up isn't "can I do it." But who will I disappoint if I don't do it well enough. And that really comes down to who will stop loving me if I don't do it well enough.
The specific words I've been looking for all my life are "I'm proud of you." I know, though, I've heard them. I just haven't let them sink in. Time I think, for Lynn to have an Angel Shower. :)
I feel like I've just pulled the rocks out of my pockets and chipped off the cement shoes.
In my dream, I was about 8, I think. I had a decent, good enough, vocabulary, at least. There were many challenges in my dream. Some I met with great success and some I met with complete failure. Always though, I ventured forth without worry or concern. I tried new things easily. I mastered some, became competent at others and barely adequate at still others. For a very few things, I could gain no skill at all.
The challenges were all adult sized challenges, though. And challenges from my real life mixed in with other challenges from the standard set. A couple of real life ones: Becoming a HAI intern. Taking on Head Coach in the SELP. Joining CI. Performing Dr. Scott and now Riff.
In my dream, many people, all of them real in my life, were there for each challenge. The specific challenges had specific people. The standard, generic challenges had a small, but consistent cast of characters.
In waking life, I have worked and overcome the need to look good, or rather, the need to not look really bad. In my teens, this was at paranoia levels for reasons I have already written about in my journal. This was not a dream about success or failure, though, as it might have been if looking good were the game at hand. And my age in this dream is well before I hit that wall at age 11.
No. In this dream, I was in my glory years of childhood. Life was really good when I was 8. Great friends and sweeties. My sister was my protector and I idolized her. My brother took me places on his Vespa and we hung out. It was really, really good.
But there was something missing and I found it in this dream.
It's not acceptance I've been looking for all these years. I have always been accepted. I've been welcomed into communities even when I didn't think I fit well. That was a long standing story I've told myself and others. Nope. Not that.
It's not "if I can do it." It's not even "if I can do it well." It's "will X be proud of me." And some adolescent "Will X like me" thrown in.
My dad was not emotionally expressive. He seldom showed anger or even agitation. He practically never scolded. But neither did he display enthusiasm and he never praised. Around my father, one could feel safe and loved. But I had no idea if anything I did met with satisfaction or even approval. He died before I joined the Navy. At each milestone, I would think, "I wonder if Dad would be proud of me." I had that thought again at my brother's funeral when I saw my father's headstone.
My mother was very expressive, but nothing good could be said without saying ten things bad. With her, nothing could be good enough. Nothing. And she was cruel about it. There's enough evidence to assert that she was intentionally cruel about it.
At every milestone in my dream, there were my parents. My mother saying, "You really smart, but you have no practical sense" or "Your really smart, but you are lazy, clumsy and worthless." And Dad would look on and say and do nothing.
In real life, when I married the first time, my mother expressly told my first wife to be that she was worthless but the best I could do. To me, she said, "You've got your head up you ass if you think you love her."
Anyway, the specific events I listed from my dream.
HAI intern. It took me five years to become a HAI intern. I had to be good enough for Chip August, one of the facilitators, to be proud of me before I submitted an application.
SELP Head Coach (and I'm in the pipe line to be an SELP leader). Would Tamara (my current SELP Leader) and Linda (First SELP leader and Center Manager) be proud of me.
All things Rocky. Will Amy be proud of me.
Trannie: Will Chrys be proud and will she like me.
Dr. Scott: Will both Amy's be proud of my performance.
Riff. This one is/was complicated. Both Amys and the Nelson boys for proud. Kim, Nicole, and the other Magentas for liking me.
Then I awoke.
And it's like it hit me over the head. What slows me up isn't "can I do it." But who will I disappoint if I don't do it well enough. And that really comes down to who will stop loving me if I don't do it well enough.
The specific words I've been looking for all my life are "I'm proud of you." I know, though, I've heard them. I just haven't let them sink in. Time I think, for Lynn to have an Angel Shower. :)
I feel like I've just pulled the rocks out of my pockets and chipped off the cement shoes.