Claws

I just spent an hour writing a post that will linger in my drafts folder until I finally decide the post should be euthanized. That’s how I managed to have 455 incomplete posts in my drafts folder. And that’s after having euthanized quite a few of them over time.

Sometimes, I write what’s on my mind only to finally realize it has no place in the public sphere. Posting those drafts would only confirm, for those who already suspect, that I comprise an incredible assortment of flaws. Such as the fact that I dwell on loneliness far too often. And I bounce between gratitude and sorrow with extraordinary speed. And plenty more. So, this morning’s hour of writing is awaiting its turn to be discarded. Instead, I’m starting anew. We’ll see how that goes.

I had a vivid dream last night. I think. But I cannot recall anything of it (them?), other than it/they made me feel like lightning bolts ripped through me. Whatever it was, it was an intensely emotional experience; I just don’t know which emotions. It’s odd to awaken to the knowledge that I’ve just had a powerful dream about which I remember absolutely nothing. For some strange reason, that frightens me. Or maybe it’s leftover fright from the dream.

I’ve just set my alarm for 8:00 a.m. When the alarm sounds, I will shave and shower. I have to look at least moderately presentable for a Zoom event at 10 and, then, lunch with church friends on the deck of a lakeside restaurant afterward. This writing is not going to go well. I can feel it. So I may as well surrender before I waste any more time. Mine and yours. I’ll go make some breakfast in preparation for wandering into the claws of the day.

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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3 Responses to Claws

  1. Paula Newman says:

    Yes! I have the dimples to prove it!

  2. Paula, if I’d had that experience for years, I don’t know what I would have done! Interesting, I’ve noticed lately that if I am on my back when I wake, my spine feels brittle and arthritic. I’m glad you managed to overcome that terror! I imagine sitting on fences, particularly picket fences, can be quite uncomfortable. 😉

  3. Paula Newman says:

    The feeling of electrical cracking in dreams was, for me, a terribly long series (years long) of nightly anxiety nightmares. I couldn’t move or speak. I could only hear the electrical cracking and feel pain. The dreams lessened when I stopped sleeping on my back and started telling myself before sleep to relax into the dream, that it would be over soon. That advice carried over into the dream and diffused the terror brought by being half-awake and half-asleep. I’m a fence sitter by nature and it’s not always easy.

Please talk to me about what I've written. I get lonely when I'm the only one saying anything.

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