Between the Shadows and Light
My dreams have been particularly vivid lately. The one I remember better is the last one of the night where I was talking to a stout woman. She was Hispanic in origin and she had a child with her.
I didn't realize she was blind until she sat up and began tapping her cane. We talked for awhile about what had been going on in the country for the last couple of years. Voices out of the shadows told us that we were wrong. We heard these disembodied voices and the woman said to me, "they have no clue what they have opened up."
I agreed with her as I washed my hands. Her child clutched her hand tightly. I didn't get her name, but I knew I would see her again.
It was only a dream.
However I have met others in my dreams and then later met them in real life. If I meet her, I will remember her dark hair, her sightless eyes, and her stout body. I will remember her determination and independence.
For now I am bouncing between shadow and light. One of the reasons I write is because it reminds me of that place in dreamland where I feel safe to be myself and to express my opinions.
When my late-hubby was alive, he soon knew that I didn't always have the people skills that others had. I had been pulled out of school as a pre-teen and had been isolated for many years. I didn't know how to soothe and smooth relations between two people. Instead of speaking, I would listen and if I didn't like what I heard, I would leave. Escape is always an option.
He would help me practice how to say certain things without being aggressive in my speech and without starting from the basis of fighting. My dreams have taken over this task of civilizing me.
Sometimes I would rather sleep and dream, than deal with people. Plus I write a pale fascimile of my dreams. I am between the shadows and the light.