Everything Takes Forever: A Story of Waiting (Part 16)

[Continued from Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13, Part 14, and Part 15]

That damn dream again. It was years ago—singular, inconsequential, illogical—but it’s stayed at the back of my mind, refusing to fade from memory.

I’m sitting in a hotel room with green patterned wallpaper. Everything’s sort of out of alignment in the way that picture frames are slanted and door knobs are oddly placed and purposefully out of reach. When I stare hard enough at the walls, they melt a little and threaten to close in on me.

I’m in some sort of maze or sick escape room situation. This ornate room is reminiscent of Victor Hugo’s Places des Vosges apartment, except I’m at the Grand Hyatt, even if I have no idea how I arrived at that knowledge. I try to exit the room, but each doorway leads me deeper into a labyrinth of hallways.

In the next scene, I’m at the pool, presumably on holiday at a resort. It’s a nice sort of urban oasis, though the motel-like blocks flanking this one main pool are low-rise and people are chilling on balconies. I’m with someone from my past, and his presence troubles me. Maybe he’s telling me this is our last vacation together, or something in that vein. There is something final and absolute about being in that pool at that specific moment. Enjoy it while it lasts, is the message, but I’m unable to.

In the next and final scene, I’m fleeing. I’m desperate to get away from the mixture of humiliation, sadness, anxiety, and fear that’s bubbling inside me. Along the way, I spot a friendly face from a distance. Someone is waving and calling out to me and at first I think it’s a neighbor because he’s standing in front of a laundry line, in what looks to be a backyard. However, as I approach, I see that he’s that someone from the pool.

He seems like a different person—for one, he’s completely dry and is acting as if whatever conversation or agreement we had earlier at the pool never happened—but he’s eager to tell me something.

I’m relieved to see him and I listen in. But then he breaks into a fit of hysterical laughter that is at once frightening and condescending. “I believed you were better than this,” I say, before turning to run.

As my bare feet pound the ground, his laughter trails me all the way. It echoes in my ears long after I’m jolted awake.

I still remember that crazy hotel room with its green-patterned walls threatening to melt into me. The very pool scene where I felt compelled to put on a happy face even if I was dying inside. However, the thing that haunts me most is that humiliating, maniacal laughter.

Everything about this damn dream chills me to the bone to this day, and I’m almost angry at my inability to simply forget about it. I’ve certainly had dreams I’ve struggled to remember, but never this one. This dream will likely follow me to my grave.

Which is why I may as well write about it.

[to be continued]

Image source: Pinterest

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Happy 2018: New Year’s Resolutions

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Photo via Pixabay

Happy New Year, folks! I hope 2018’s gotten off to a wonderful start for you.

For a number of reasons 2017 wasn’t the most productive year for me, nor the most conducive in terms of writing and self-improvement. But I really do feel the gears shifting for 2018 and I’m hopeful I can meet some milestones I’m setting for myself. Namely:

  1. Finishing my sequel. I’m 10 chapters in and I think I have another 5 to go. Fingers crossed that the manuscript can be completed by Q1. See point number 4.
  2. Getting an agent/publisher. I’m keener to explore the traditionally published route this time, but self-publishing may still be an option—especially if I get a grant again.
  3. School Tour. Are you an educator, principal or school administrator? Book me for a storytelling session and drawing workshop. I’m populating my calendar with visits to local and international institutions, and looking forward to meeting literature-loving kids.
  4. Making writing a priority. I didn’t carve out and commit to proper ‘writing days’ in the past year, which explains a lot about my output (or lack thereof). Toward the end of 2017, when things began to wind down at work, I had more opportunities to write, and I was amazed at how easily the pace picked up and how quickly the ideas translated into prose. I suppose writing is like working a muscle—the more you put it to use, the more naturally it flows. Previously I’d always felt so ‘stuck’ and unmotivated because writing was something I did only after I’d completed my ‘more important’ assignments and chores. And how do people normally feel about that very last item on their to-do list? Less than enthused, I’d imagine. So yeah, writing will take precedence this year and I will give it the attention it deserves.
  5. Less time on social media. YouTube, Facebook and Instagram have definitely been blackholes into which chunks of my free time disappeared, and I’m determined to limit this unproductive use of my mental bandwidth. Besides, FOMO is real.
  6. Rejigging the spiritual life. An extension of point number 5, which is to unplug from the noise and spend more time in prayer and contemplation. 2017 was exceptionally anxiety-riddled (actually my entire life has been), exacerbated by health scares and feeling overwhelmed by a combination of work and mom stuff. So the spiritual life fell by the wayside somewhat, especially when I chose to numb myself with brainless distractions (back to point number 5 about too much time on social media).
  7. A book club. I read voraciously, my bookshelves are bursting at its seams, and my Kindle is about to explode. So it makes sense to either start my own book club or join one. Perhaps something to explore with the schools?
  8. Decide what I want to do with my ongoing Everything Takes Forever series. Adapting it into an e-book was my original intention, but I wonder if I should explore building a larger narrative around it and structuring it as a non-fiction chapter book.

What about you? Do you believe in New Year’s resolutions and have you set any? Somewhere, somehow, I assume everyone’s striving always to be a better version of themselves, so here’s hoping 2018 takes us one step closer to that.

Everything Takes Forever: A Story of Waiting (Part 15)

Image via Pinterest

[Continued from Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13, and Part 14]

Angels and demons, light and darkness, yin and yang, good and evil—whatever you choose to call it, the state of one’s interior life tends to be dominated by one or the other. In the interests of this blog, I’ll refer to them as the good spirit and the bad spirit, i.e. invisible forces that recognize our deeply held desires and subsequently attempt to influence/predispose us toward particular courses of action.

Through my ED and subsequent recovery process, I have come to identify the good spirit as the inner voice that is quiet, patient, gentle, at times insistent but never forceful or aggressive, and always compassionate and encouraging. The good spirit only seeks to lead one toward a place of greater peace and freedom, not unlike a trusted confidant who celebrates one’s victories in happier times, and during challenging moments gently but persistently nudges one back to a place of greater awareness and reason.

The bad spirit, on the contrary, can be likened to a cruel drill sergeant—brash, authoritative, pushy, inflexible, disparaging, dismissive, and fond of using imperatives such as ‘must/should/have to’ to drive home the message that there can be no other way. Its ultimate aim is to disrupt, cause chaos, confusion, and disquiet, so that as a result one is less able to make a rational decision and more likely to accept ‘quick-fix’ solutions that ultimately do more harm than good.

Being aware of the good and bad spirits’ respective qualities have been extremely helpful in guiding me in making well-discerned decisions. The only problem, however, is that things are rarely this straightforward. And things get particularly tricky when the bad spirit tries to pass off as the good spirit, otherwise known as the ‘false angel of light.’

The false angel of light is exactly that: false. It’s also a great actor, with great versatility and shape-shifting abilities befitting the scenario. Mostly it preys on a person’s overarching desire to do what is ‘right and good,’ and nudges one to act out one’s ‘noble’ and ‘beneficent’ intentions even if what follows is entirely irrational. It starts off gentle and persuasive, “Oh but wouldn’t be so much more loving/kind/[insert synonym] of you to do [X]?” though along the way the unmistakable “you must” tone emerges, along with threats such as “if you don’t do [X], you’ll have failed in being loving/kind/righteous, etc.” And then you understand why you’ve had such a bad gut feeling this whole time—that was hardly the good spirit at work. Time for a U-turn.

Lord knows the many occasions that I’d been fooled by the false angel of light, and unwittingly entered into a ‘dance with the devil.’ Here is my story of one of those times.  Continue reading