“People wish to learn to swim and, at the same time, to keep one foot on the ground.” Marcel Proust
Last night I had a dream about flying. At least, we were meant to fly but, symbolically, we never actually took off, merely spent a great deal of time on the preparation. Yes, even in dreams I still manage to procrastinate!
The dream itself involved me boarding a plane for the first time, and then wandering the length and breadth of the whole thing, trying to find the perfect seat, probably in an attempt to keep the anxiety about flying at bay. And, as is often the case in dreams (with them often being representative of something), the plane was not an exact replica of the real thing. Instead, it was set out in a series of ‘rooms’, and the seating resembled that of a cafe or restaurant - lots of dining tables and chairs.
We never did take-off in my dream (kind of the story of my life). By the time I woke up, I was still wandering around anxiously, trying to find a place to settle, attempting to locate the toilets in case I needed to vomit (which I was already anticipating would be the case), and to find the person with whom I’d connected in the queue, who had said that they would guide me since it was my first time, but who had taken off alone the moment we reached the boarding tunnel (symbolic of my lack of trust in real life - I expect people to let me down, and I often confuse guidance with dependence).
In reality, I have never flown: I’ve hardly travelled at all, in my forty-seven years of existence. This is where my anxiety really impacts on my life, and no amount of yoga has so far helped to overcome the obstacles which impede any prospect of me travelling. That doesn’t necessarily mean it won’t ever happen, though, sometime in the future.
I’ve done lots of things in my life since coming into recovery, and finding the Twelve Step programme, which has led to a connection with a Higher Power of my understanding (which I call God): none of which I ever believed possible before. For one thing, I left my family home, and acquired a place of my own - something I never imagined I’d be able to do. And, since then, I’ve moved twice more - another feat I thought myself incapable of, since I hate change so much, and any disruption causes me such anxiety and distress.
But travel for me is fraught with extreme stress (from the planning, packing, etc, to the journey itself: and once I reach my destination, the anxiety doesn’t stop there), and I require so much stuff (part of the need to exert some feeling of control, I believe), that it’s really not worth the hassle at the moment.
I worry especially about food, since I have such a ‘specialised’ diet - I am vegetarian/almost vegan; can’t eat sugar, of ANY description (and so much of it is hidden in foods you wouldn’t expect it in), other than certain fruits; can't eat bread products, so no quick and easy sandwich snacks for me to carry with me; don’t have dairy; don’t eat anything processed, pre-packaged, instant, etc - I make everything from scratch. And the list goes on).
So, back to the dream, since there was a great deal of meaning to it, which, for once, I had no problem interpreting.
On the surface, there’s the literal interpretation of flying that I fear (though that in itself is merely symbolic of the whole act of travelling, by whatever mode of transport I choose). But beneath that it represents my fear of allowing my self, my soul, my spirit, my essence, my whole being to take off and fly; to be free; to think my own thoughts; to have my own beliefs; feel my own feelings; experience my own experiences; to live my own life; to let go of trying to control everything.
I fear not being in control, and letting go and letting God do His/Her/Its part - which means trusting that all is well, and will be well. So of course I worry about having to trust the pilot (God), and the plane to stay up in the sky, especially when I don’t understand the ‘mechanics’ behind any of it (how does something so heavy remain airborne?; and how does one fly a plane?)
I fear that if I do allow myself to fly (to let go of all the negativity and enjoy my life) that it won’t last (like a plane can’t stay in the air forever), and I’ll come crashing down to earth at some point: no gentle landing to refuel for me. No, my ‘plane’, I seem to believe, has to have a crash-landing. Either I, or someone else, will do something to bring me down to earth - ‘cos of course I worry (become paranoid) that some people will be envious, and try to sabotage my flight. And since I’ll have further to fall if I soar too high, it will be more painful: therefore it’s better to keep one foot on the ground, which means I never really take to the air at all.
Or there’s the option of a Harrier jump jet take-off - lift vertically into the air a few metres, hover for a short while, then return to earth in almost the exact same position you started from. Sounds like my kind of journey.
And then, of course, there’s the fact that I not only literally require so much luggage to take with me when I venture anywhere (no matter how long I’ll be away from home), but that I figuratively lug around tonnes of baggage, which I struggle to let go of - worries, fears, resentments, obsessions. All of which contributes to impeding my ability to take flight.
So, the dream I believe, in essence, was showing me all of the stuff which I have designed, both consciously and unconsciously, to keep myself grounded (and not in a good way), to stop myself from travelling further along on my life’s journey, and to slow down and control the process of growth and change. Because it’s my mind in which all of this is taking place, and which my dream is dredging the depths of in order to bring to the surface what’s happening ‘down’ or ‘out’ there, in the dark abyss that often gets overlooked.
And the only way I know of to change any of it is to first become conscious of its existence; to bring it out into the light where I can get a good look at it; share it with someone who has a more objective perspective and can, hopefully, offer guidance on how to deal with it; and own it - stop blaming it on other people, or circumstances, or things. Only then can the journey to freedom continue.
Doddle. Just don’t forget to take your parachute, and a spare (or two), just in case…!
Or, better yet, trust that God is always there to catch you if you fall… unless you believe that God is man-made, and likely to malfunction. In which case you’re in deep shit, and probably better off staying on the ground, like a bird with its wings clipped. But oh, you’ll miss out on so much.
Take a risk, ask God to remove the fear of flying (the fear of change), let go and let God be in charge of the outcome, and just enjoy the journey, like we are meant to do. Simple, but not easy (as we say in AA). Bon voyage!
