Getting a handle on one of my recurring nightmares
After I hit the publish button on my last article, the one that detailed my dreams for a pink marble hot tub, I decided to reward my efforts by jumping into the fantasy for a good long soak. I closed my eyes and really got into the full experience of it — the warm water bubbling around my shoulders, the sconces on the wall flickering like miniature bonfires, surf crashing against a Hawaiian beach. Here I’ve found my happy place, my Aladdin’s cave containing my deepest joy.
I’ve had this hot tub fantasy for a very long time. It has become my symbol for success, the “moon” I’m shooting for in Og Mandino’s analogy. But over the years I’ve had to be careful not to let it run too long because, up until now, this little play hasn’t ended well. As sure as night follows day, the minute I get really comfortable with the idea of indulgent success, some figment of my imagination—either of my exes, one of my kids, my mother, or maybe a shadow figure — has intruded on my bliss and dropped a plugged-in hair dryer into the tub. Happens. Every. Time.
I’m getting really tired of this not-so-happy ending. At the same time, I’m curious. Symbols like this are similar to the ones I see in my nocturnal dreams. Could my subconscious mind be trying to tell me something? Even when I’m awake? If so…
