My day often starts with a dream. It may be a mere fragment—like a freeze frame in a longer movie whose plot I can’t recall—but a few vivid images are enough to keep me pondering well into the morning. If it’s gripping, I’ll write it in a dream notebook first thing. When I’ve captured as many details as possible, I’ll email them to my closest friend in Atlanta. Kathryn is a writer like me, and she’s read Jung and other thinkers on the meaning of dreams.
In this morning’s fragment I was terrified of a German Shepard that belonged to someone in the house or hotel where I was staying. I like dogs, but he seemed more threatening than friendly—or at least that was my association with the breed. I wanted to befriend him so I wouldn’t have to worry every time I passed by that he would bite me. He was lying on his haunches, and I talked to him quietly while leaning down to pet him. He rolled over and let me scratch his stomach, which I did even though I was still scared of him.
It's a propitious day when a dream coincides with my weekly “walk and talk” with Kathryn. I’ll take a long walk around noon in Seattle—which is 3 pm her time—and we’ll talk for several hours. She likes to discuss my dreams since she’s not much of a dreamer herself.
But first I make myself a cup of tea and check the weather to see if it’s necessary to water the garden that day. I read a few poems, scan the news headlines, and read The Writers Almanac for the day. Then I check my emails to see what business needs to be done before I can sit down to write.
I like delving into a piece that I’ve already drafted. I’m currently working on a rewrite of my novel set in Zanzibar, which is where I spent many weeks and weekends when we lived in Tanzania. It’s a dreamy sort of novel that landed an agent for me ten years ago. When she failed to sell it, I started writing a memoir about the many years I lived in east and west Africa and Europe with my husband and children.
When the memoir was published last year, it required a steep learning curve for me to market and promote the book. It’s a very different mindset from writing when one has to pitch spinoff articles to online magazines, enter the book in contests, and request interviews on podcasts. I had a great deal of fear about speaking in public and exposing personal details about my family as one inevitably must in a memoir. Happily, I discovered that I was good on my feet and could come up with cogent answers to questions in interviews. Speaking at bookstores and libraries, I actually enjoyed engaging with readers and attendees. I figured that I didn’t have much to lose at my age, and that I was an authority of sorts when it came to expat life.
But today, after working on my novel rewrite for much of the morning, I’m ready to take a break by noon. I grab a quick bite and head to a nearby park to walk and talk with Kathryn. Another type of consciousness takes over when I’m walking in nature and talking with a friend.
“What was the main emotion you felt in the dream,” Kathryn asks me. When I tell her that it was fear of the German Shepard, she responds, “It’s a good dream. It shows your courage in confronting your fears instead of running away from them.” We continue to discuss the details in my dream before switching modes and talking about how our writing is going, what our adult children are doing, and any upcoming trips and plans we have.
After the walk and intense talk, I usually need a nap. Sometimes this leads to another dream, and it may be harder to come out of it in the afternoon. The best way to do so is to get busy outside, which is akin to doing occupational therapy for me. I like to weed and water the garden for an hour or two before plunging into dinner prep if it’s my turn to cook and not my husband’s. NPR news makes the work go faster, as does an engrossing audiobook.
On a really good day, I’ll cook for our son and have his visit to look forward to. It’s a sweet twist of fate that he settled near us after decades of living overseas. Our daughter lives in the UK with her husband and children, and we only see her once or twice a year. But our son will come after work once a week to spend time with us. Getting to be with one of my children is truly a day that begins and ends with a dream.
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