Say it Out Loud

My neighbor was being stressed out with a repetitive dream. It was a nasty one, like some playback from a Law and Order show, about a man abusing children.

She is an older lady and doesn't like to watch a lot of crime shows, not like yours truly who is addicted to crime and mystery. Unfortunately, and maybe because she was having the same dream over and over again, she remembered it in detail.

She told me about these dreams, and I was going to do some dream research, but didn't get to it. Yesterday, she told me she hasn't had the dream since she'd told me about it. Talking about it stopped the cycle. Glad I could help by listening.

I think this is true of so many things. There have been times when I have been overwhelmed, so many worries going around and around in my head, no beginning, no end.

I always found talking about it, some of it, stopped the constant swirl of stress and gave me a chance to look at things, and get some perspective, some control.

The funny thing with dreams, at least for me, is I have a hard time remembering them once I am fully awake. I dreamed about my Mom the other night. Can't remember all the details, but I was there, going up and down in a elevator, carrying or moving something, and she was outside the elevator door with a clipboard. Keeping count? Of what?

The dream has faded and I can't remember the details, except for that look on my mother's face. You know that look, every mother has had it at one time or another. That half grin, half smirk, that tells you that you've been caught, and she, the all powerful Mother, knows it all.

Now I just have to figure out what I was doing wrong, that Mom was trying to tell me to stop. Maybe I need to do that dream research after all. Thanks Mom, I guess.