In my dream, I am greeting someone I haven't seen in years. I am very happy at this meeting, and I feel joy in the moment. Suddenly, the dream is interrupted by a golf game, presented as if it's on a television screen. Around the edge of the screen, a large border of light, grayish brown plaid includes three picture-in-picture shots of women commentators. One of them looks like me, but she is not talking much. The second I can't quite make out. The third is a tall, whip-thin, angular woman with her gray hair in a no-nonsense short style that looks fairly masculine. This woman is going on and on in a very serious way about golf. After a while, I get so bored and restless that I wake up.
This is my subconscious's way of telling me I'm not living up to my potential, though it took me a while to figure that out. Meanwhile, every night, in every dream, that golf game would show up and I would bore myself awake. To me, golf is one of the most boring activities on the planet--especially when viewed on television--and that light brown color is the most boring color on the planet. To listen to someone endlessly discuss golf is like hearing nails on a chalkboard. My apologies to anyone for whom golf is a fun hobby and/or obsession. It's not personal. I am sure some things I do that I love doing would make you want to tear your hair out in large clumps just so you're not bored anymore.
Me and my subconscious, we're talking a lot. No, better to say my subconscious is deluging me with information, mostly through dream elements. The same dream element will plague me night after night until I figure out what the message is. What's nice is that the message is always positive and uplifting. My subconscious is gentle with me, unlike my much more critical conscious. Boring me awake with golf was just a kind kick in the butt. "You're wasting too much time," my inner self tells me. "You know what you want to do and you're not doing it. Get going already! You know you're capable enough." It's great to know I believe in myself at the deepest of levels.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. This is one of my favorite holidays. It combines all the joys of family, friends, great food, lots of laughter, and plenty of gratitude. There is also a distinct lack of stress that, for me, is very much associated with Christmas. I love the safe feeling of Thanksgiving, with everyone gathered in our home, talking and playing games and telling each other such funny jokes that someone inevitably snorts their drink through their nose. Far-flung relatives have traveled for hours to be here this afternoon. Cousins will reconnect and become engaged in fierce Lego building competitions. Adults will laugh together, and if the subject of politics is broached, we're all pretty much on the same page that way and there won't be any fierce arguments. If we're lucky, two of my brothers will give us a classical guitar concert and my daughters will sing. One of my nieces will play her new piano compositions for us, which are stunningly good for someone of her tender years. And at the end of the evening, everyone will sit back with full tummies, trying to figure out how to stuff a slice of my mother's delicious pumpkin or vanilla cream pies down their gullet.
I'm a lucky girl indeed to be surrounded by so much love and abundance. My cup runneth over. I thank my God for my blessings.
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