A New Day Dawns

Photo by Sam Javanrough

Today appears to be better. Life has possibilities again.

Getting sick has always had mixed messages for me, conflicting thoughts and meanings. Some part of me likes being ill. Perhaps it reminds me of the attention my mother lavish on me when I was ill as a child. She was not inattentive at other times, of course, but was more so when I ran a fever. At the same time, I do not like being even a little helpless.

I do dream better when I am sick, especially if I run a high fever. The dreams are long, dark, convoluted and mysterious yet filled with lunacies. I wake without feeling much rest physically but mentally refreshed. Unless I take pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) quickly after waking, the dreams and their possible meanings quickly dissolve back into my subconsciousness.

I know I dreamt last night and I know it was one of those dreams but I have no idea just what it was. Like shadows from someone, or some thing hiding behind a tree at the edge of a deep and dark forest, bits and pieces almost take shape but are just as quickly lost in the sunlight.

I am sure that dreams like these have some purpose in healing the body. At least I hope so. I'd hate to think they were glimpses into the malevolent beast which we wall up behind civilized behavior in order to live among others.

One has hope on such mornings.