Day Ten

Many of my dreams last night had to do with work, but that is because Friday was an intense day.

I know there was at least one that didn't have anything at all to do with work, but I can't remember it right now. Hopefully it will come to me at some point in the day.

There was another that was only loosely related. I was at a party being thrown by M.B.  I think it may have been a birthday party for her brother, or some family friend.  I didn't really know anyone there, except for the few people in M.B.'s family whom I've met before.  Everyone was gathered around outside for some presentation/announcement and her brother was calling over her daughter to help with the announcement.  He kept calling her name but she wasn't coming. I started to get worried but no one else seemed too freaked out.  Then M.B.started looking for her outside and I said I would search inside.  I went inside the house* and started looking for her in closets and under furniture,thinking she may be hiding. I was trusting my instinct, in that I didn't get the sense something bad had happened, but it was becoming increasingly nervous that we couldn't find her. I then remembered what it was like to be a kid and hide from you parents.  I remember the excitement from that early form of rebellion; knowing you are safe, but they don't know where you are.I remember gauging the tone of my mom's voice, from wonder, to nervousness, to panic and choosing the best time to reveal myself.  I remember that feeling of wanting to stay hidden, but knowing that she would quickly move into crisis mode, making it so that when I did crawl out from hiding, her relief would manifest as anger from her fear. She wouldn't take that anger out on me, but that emotional buildup would be palpable.  Or maybe, I just feel that way now because as an adult, someone responsible for children and with loved ones at home, I too now understand that response to thinking  I am about to face unimaginable horror.

I don't remember anything about the dream beyond that.

*The house we were in was a typical Eastside Seattle house.  It wasn't any particular house I remember from those days, but the layout and feel of the house was exactly that. It is an interesting idea to think about this element of dreams, one that I tend to ignore in terms of meaning.  There are certainly architectural styles that are found in various part of the country. It makes sense then, to take into consideration the emotional connection that is associated with one's experience living or spending time in a particular type of home.

My brain is too full right now to figure out what the hell a lost child, a house in Seattle, and M.B. are all doing in my subconscious, but just the sound of it doesn't seem particularly subtle.