History Deconstructed

"The only time I feel fear as others feel fear is when I think of you in harm. That is why I am on this porch, Ivy Walker." - The Village
The melt-down I have experienced in the past week caught me by surprise. Talking about it, in my mind, equals complaining, but I know that talking is what I need, even if it's uncomfortable.

Contributing to my crisis is "the job", which begins again on the 30th and for which I have done zero planning for the new class I will teach. Winging-it will be taken to new levels even for me, it seems. I actually had a dream nightmare about the first day of school. I was standing in front of a classroom-full of students and had done no planning. I was panicked and confused, but underneath it all I was curious. How would I perform under pressure? Could I bullshit my way out?

Another recent dream: Veronica's son (who recently has been in a series of unfortunate drug and alcohol-induced accidents and incidents involving the police) was driving a huge houseboat at an amusement park. AJ and Mo were passengers. He navigated to the middle of a lagoon and began speeding around in tight circles when suddenly the boat (which was towing another huge boat) flew into the air. It came crashing back down onto the water and then sped toward shore. I realized suddenly that the boat wasn't slowing down as it approached the shore. Crashing into the dock, it crumpled like an accordian. Running to see the damage, I was relieved to see AJ and Mo as little girls, sitting in their seats unharmed.

I am no longer my childrens' protector, and lately, awash in a sea of sadness, I realize I have no protector. There is no one who will appear on my porch if I am in harm.

I have given myself permission in the past few months to experience whatever emotional process might be necessary during a time like this. I have tried to just "feel", without thinking too much. This is not a pity-party, but stark reality. In the past year I have lost my husband to divorce, I have lost my mother to Alzheimers, my sisters have removed themselves emotionally and my children are in the middle of busy lives of their own. Even Veronica has receded, having found a new man to share her time.

Here is a new dream. Beginning to crumble, literally, like a statue, I am history deconstructed. In this dream no one can speak, as it has been for generations. Quickly turning to dust, in the nick of time I open my lips and breathing fire, I sear the virgin landscape, alter forever the ground that we walk on, change how we view nature, call myself by name and in the palms of my hands carry my children out of this chaos.