This was a dream within a dream. In the dream I dreamt that I was to be the bridesmaid in a wedding and on the day of the wedding kept getting delayed in one way or another…going down the wrong street, getting lost, passing streets and doorways that I should have been familiar with…and sliding in just in time, but other members of the wedding party had had to do much of what I felt was my responsibility as the maid of honor.
In this dream, I awoke and realized it was a dream and was very relieved, because I was, in fact, to be the maid of honor in a wedding. And as luck would have it, I proceeded to have the same experience as I had dreamt (in my dream)…getting lost, missing obvious signposts and doorways, etc., and getting to the wedding almost too late.
Peppered throughout my dream were references to people from my past with whom I have not kept in touch. One specifically was a guy who had reported to me at one time and in this dream (the second version, where I was supposedly awake), he was along for the ride, trying to help me, but not able to help which I believe is because I was “calling the shots” and not following his suggestions. He just laid low and let me go through my motions and was always there along the way, even as I arrived at the location of the wedding, obviously very late.
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about my writing and the fact that I haven’t published “my book” yet…and that I’m now 50 years old, and hoping I’ll get my act together and regain my focus soon because I feel my time is running out. I’m 50. People in my “circle” are beginning to drop off, and I wonder if I’ve wasted too much of my time. Am I “too late for the wedding?”
In my dream people are depending on my and I’m not getting to the place I need to be. Is that a suggestion that I – in my non-dream life – am not getting to the place I need to be?
Lately the first lines of a poem I wrote when I was a 14 keeps running through my head. “Poor Sadie was a simple child, her parents died so young. She thought her sad life over before it had begun.” I wonder if it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I hope not.
Poor Sadie was a simple child, her parents died so young;
She thought her sad life over before it had begun.
She lived through all her writings, the thoughts she held inside;
But if someone should come near, her feelings she would hide.
She wrote of things that pleased her and things misunderstood;
Hoping that somehow, someday, her thoughts would do some good.
She thought so much her head ached, but she wrote down every line;
And if a thought was hidden it came to her in time.
As she grew her thoughts expanded with every passing day;
And she carefully thought each detail as she wrote her life away.
She wrote like this for years, though it seemed so short a time;
For life was such a word, that it needed more than lines.
And when her time had come, she noticed much too late;
Her words had helped no one, and age had closed the gate.
What she had left were feelings, in her attic to remain;
And so poor Sadie left this world as quietly as she came.