Three dreams (nightmares?)

Three nights ago I was dreaming that I was in charge of a group of people who were travelling to Israel. I had to manage the transportation, the tickets, visas, etc. It was a hassle. There seemed to be complications in getting a bus to take us to the airport. For some reason we were in Long Beach — along 7th Avenue near the Recreation park. I was struggling with my own baggage as well. I needed help but couldn’t seem to have any at hand. As the dream progressed, I was becoming more and more anxious. I was relieved when I woke up but troubled that there was still unfinished business to take care of.

Two nights ago, I dreamed that I was struggling with all the preparation in the upcoming Thanksgiving meal. I fretted about getting a large enough turkey, about having enough food to feed the family staying over to paint on Friday. All the details of getting all the supplies for the meal seemed to assail me without end. I couldn’t extract my mind from worrying about getting everything ready. As it was, I awoke at 4:00 and couldn’t really back to sleep. I played fetch with Blanche for a while and finally got up around 5. I spent most of yesterday sleeping between bouts of vacuuming and cleaning up the garage. I was really tired.

Then, last night, I was involved in a struggle to push back on the changes that have occurred in the church in the last ten years. I seemed to be involved in some sort of guerrilla movement. Bernie Ronan was the identified leader of my opposition. There was a court room setting and I accused him of betraying the spirit of Vatican II. The scene was in turmoil. Gangsters drove by and shot me in the chest. I still struggled along on a road to defeat Ronan and his henchmen. Finally, someone came along and put a bullet in my head. My eyes were still open but I could do nothing. Then, in the second part of the dream, I was surveying boundaries of parishes. I came across boundaries for a Resurrection parish and I knew I didn’t belong there. I found my own parish (Holy Family?) whereupon the dream ended.

I am really tired today. Even after showering, shaving, watering the trees and breakfast I have no energy. I prayed in my chair and then slept for an hour. I’m hoping that an iced mocha from McDonald’s will perk me up.I’m amazed that I remember the dreams from three nights ago in such detail. The emotions I went through in them were quite palpable. I suppose that’s what makes these so vivid. The common theme is that I’m out of control. I am anxious. I am struggling with events and systems that I have some sort of leadership or responsibility for.

I meet with therapist on Thursday. I wonder what he’d make of these. Is this the bargaining part of grief? Obviously I’m having trouble letting go of something.

 

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