I can remember two very simple dreams I had overnight.
In one, two puppies are crawling over my prone form. If you’ve ever experienced it, you know how delightful it can be. In memory it seems I always end up giggling this happens, unable to resist and at the mercy of their happy licks. I don’t know where the dream came from, but it was welcome.
The other dream was very simple – almost a still life. In it there is a naked woman, who appears to a light skinned aboriginal, looking at me. Studying me, almost. That’s the dream.
It’s a new day, but I don’t expect anything much different today. I wish I did.
I think it’s true to say that this cancer has left me without a fixed bearing. I keep thinking I’ll find that when I get better, but I wish I had it now. I feel between and outside things. As should be very clear from my writings here, my sense of self is frayed. I’m half working, half recuperating. There is still much I’m incapable of, and I’m impatient to reclaim what I’ve lost. But to what end? That seems the central, unanswerable question at the moment.
I suspect only people who have gone through something similar to what I have will know what I mean. I’m disorientated and I hate it.
Early on in my illness, I reflected that for years I had resisted the urge to make my own nest. Though I had recovered from dire circumstances, a part of me remained wary. I was cautious with how I spent my money and when I moved house didn’t even bother opening half the boxes.
I guess I never felt quite safe, but it was an unhealthy way to be. I resolved that as I got better I would try to make a proper home for myself, as I hadn’t for years. I’ve been doing a bit of that and it’s been satisfying.
Undercutting that is the true belief that a comfortable lifestyle isn’t the same as a well-lived life. There’s nothing wrong with a comfortable lifestyle units proper perspective. Living well isn’t life, it’s time served easy. I’ll take the easy when can, particularly after battling cancer, but it’s not nearly enough to satisfy my soul.
But what will satisfy my soul? That’s the $64 question. I wish I knew. For now, I alternate between these poles, just a little lost and impatient to fix a course. For now, I guess I have to be content that it’s a journey I’m on and that, one day, I’ll find the way forward I’m yearning for.
It’s an unsettling feeling though. I’ve lost my complacency – the complacency most have living a comfortable, unconsidered life. Cancer took that from me. I could use it now with my health as it is, but it’s perhaps it’s best I don’t have it. If I’m lost and in limbo, I’m also hungry. Hungry for what? All I know is: more.