Wednesday, November 21, 2012
A Cluttered Mind :: A Restless Heart
The alley itself was whitewashed brick but the paint was peeling, and people had posted flyers all over the walls for bands, rentals, pets for sale - that sort of thing.
We were sitting on a built-in bench and resting our feet, when two, cute Asian men came into the alley and began flirting with PeBu. In a daze, I took down a flyer and began reading it, and that's when one of the men leaned down to look at me. Right as I made eye contact with him, my friend jumped up from the bench and took off running toward the street. I panicked. Then jumped up and followed her.
By the time I reached the street, she was too far ahead of me. I couldn't figure out where she'd gone once she exited the gates. So, I'm standing on the sidewalk looking for her, and I start walking toward these clothing shops and looking for her dad. He was the reason we were in town at this hour. He'd brought us out here to hang out with the other young adults (yeah, yeah, I'm no spring chicken) while he was at the fais do-do a couple of blocks away. (Fais do-do: a street festival with drinking, live Cajun music and dancing, etc.)
Instead of finding her dad, I found Jay, and I told him we had to find PeBu because she'd cut her leg on part of the gate when she'd run from the alley. In my mind, she was no longer an adult, but a young girl. Maybe seven or eight years old, at most. I was worried about her, and had this fearful image in my mind of her in pain and bleeding profusely. That's when it dawned on me where she had gone.
Jay and I walked a few doors down to an antique store that's actually a real place, but in Monroe rather than Lafayette. The front door was glass with chain link type grating over the front of it. Through the glass, we saw it would be nearly impossible to get inside. The store had antique tables blocking the entrance, and they were piled high with lamps and baubles. So much so, that a red dining table that was right up against the glass, had begun to tilt. The table top bolts had become loose from the weight, and it looked like all the stuff would come crashing to the floor before anyone could transfer all the stuff to a different table.
We managed to squeeze in through the door, but we had to clear a path to get to the back of the shop. We started with the red table. There were blow mold lamps from the fifties or sixties everywhere, and we moved them aside. Strangely enough, one of the lamps was shaped like Huckleberry Hound. Anyway, we cleared off the table, and realized the table top (unbolted, remember?) had tipped backward, and knocked a standing bookcase into a second bookcase. We had to clear that out as well. Instead of books, however; the first bookcase was filled with old dolls. I looked at each one, and tried to identify them before moving them to the table, but I wasn't able to identify any of them. Finally, after much shuffling around, we had a path cleared out, and went toward the back of the store.
We passed through a broad, cased opening into the mid-section of the shop where the glass showcases were set up as a clerk's register area. Here, the lightning was very yellowy. Almost a neon yellow. We looked around and high up on one of the glass shelves behind the counter, there was PeBu - only she was now a little girl of about three or four...and she had been turned into a ceramic statue. She was crouched down, her bleeding leg kicked out to one side. There were towels lining the shelves because even in this form she was truly bleeding. What was most remarkable about the cut is that it matches the real life scar I have on the inside of my right calf. I realized then that the "little girl" I'd been worried about and looking for wasn't PeBu - it was me.
I was still puzzling over this when a heavy-set blonde woman came through this cased opening leading to the back of the store, which was very dark. She had come out of the back with a strip of band-aids so she could put a butterfly over the cut on the ceramic statue's leg. My leg. Which is what the grown ups did when I cut my leg in real life. No stitches, which is what it really needed. Just a couple of band-aids.
As if Jay and I wasn't supposed to be in there, the woman stopped in her tracks when she saw us. I told her that we had moved the stuff off the tables blocking the doors in order to get into the shop. While she didn't say anything against doing that, I thought she seemed disappointed. Or, maybe I was the one disappointed. It was hard to tell. At any rate, I stepped back and let her get past me so she could bandage the bleeding statue, and that's when I woke up.
Bizarre dream, right? One worthy of the dream journal since all the symbolism comes straight from my past. Oh, and "clearing the tables"... That's a new one for me, although I think I can see what my subconscious is trying to tell me. I'm pretty sure the dream means it's time to clear the tables of past obligations and unfinished business, wrap things up, set things right, and stop worrying over old wounds, physical and emotional. With it being so close to the holidays, and the New Year, I'm definitely down with putting the past to rest...so I'll be open for new beginnings, and new opportunities, in 2013.