I am not trying to be funny, but I did have a dream last night. It is noteworthy for two reasons: First, I have not been remembering my dreams for years now. Second, It was really cool. I dreamed I was swimming underwater with dolphins and people who were apparently friends (though no one I recognized). I went underwater and could see through the beautiful blue water. It was peaceful and calming until my conscious mind reminded me that I cannot swim and am afraid of being underwater. Luther Vandross was also in my dream, I had a private concert. I think he was encouraging me to be creative. As was the trip underwater, it was a subconscious nudge, towards my own creativity.
I have been blocked for years now, and frankly it's gotten to be a burden. I lost my father to cancer, and never forgave myself. We had been locked in a battle. Growing up, I was unashamedly and admittedly, a "Daddy's Girl". We just enjoyed each other, he passed on to me his willingness to question anything under the sun, his love of golf, football, tennis, Lorna Doones and classic jazz. I am certainly my father's child. He did not respect my desire to live my life as I saw fit. I could not understand the hypocrisy of his stance. We allowed this battle to continue for years. And years. I could not see what was in front of me. We were both stubborn. When I found out that Daddy had passed, I was painting. I was so happy and at ease, I hadn't a care in the world at that moment. My painting had me content and fulfilled, I was proud, because I had completed what I had set out to create. I allowed my guilt to literally consume the best of me for years. That was the last time I finished a painting. It was March 8, 2000, Ash Wednesday.
A few months ago, I realized that there are two sides to everything. And, although I do own some blame, I only own half of it. I have been doing myself a disservice to carry around blame for two people. I have denied myself the outlets to heal: writing and painting. The very vehicles I use to work through everything in my life were no longer available to me. And this went on for years. I hope someone out there can understand how completely maddening it is to not create when it has been your saving grace all your life. But, finally, the clouds are lifting and I am finally starting to see again--with my heart and not just the literal things.
I felt refreshed when I got out of the bed today. My spirit was refreshed, as if I had been in cool, clear waters. As if I had danced with my father again.