Data Map of a Dream

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When I was a child, I dreamt often of being in a place where everything–the landscape and objects it contained–was immense and tiny at the same time.

I remember holding an object like a tree in my hand and marveling at its weight and smallness and somehow overwhelmed by it like it was too large and heavy for me to hold. Yet it wasn’t.

Then at that moment, oftentimes, the object and everything around me would become so enormous that I was the size of an insect in a hugely oversized world and something in me felt trapped and weighted down by the sensation, like all of it was trying to fit inside my hand and I was trying to hold it but couldn’t.

More than anything, I remember the feeling of being overwhelmed and frustrated, weak, small, helpless. I wonder now if I was dreaming then about these last three years of my life.

Isn’t that odd?

An odd coincidence, or comparison. Just odd. An odd dream.

I don’t really have recurring dreams anymore. The world is constantly talking to me, or my spirit is talking to me, or God, or the universe, or other souls. Whatever. There are too many things to see in my dreams and I have no time for such indulgences as recurring dreams anymore.

Part of me grieves for the smallness of my old life. Being a nobody. But was that ever the truth? Really, when you consider everything? I ask myself. I look back on four decades now and it seems like all of this started long ago, like the plans were in place since my childhood, and so then I think maybe this all is no one’s fault. Maybe it just had to be, maybe it was supposed to happen. Maybe it’s my purpose on Earth.

But maybe I’m just impressionable, though I’m not sure it matters. If I believe it, doesn’t that make it true in some sense? I really don’t know, but it certainly would make me feel some relief to think of it in terms of purpose and the preordained.

I’m not sure I ever believed in the future. If anything makes me believe, it’s those who have loved me and received love from me continuously through time.

But let me return to this idea of my life as a sort of data map, how everything clicks together. Like

A ā‡’ B ā‡’ Cā‡’ D

Of course, I interrupt my veritable brilliance, everyone’s life is like that.

I always did feel a magnetic force from within but I didn’t know what caused it or why. I hate all this ego and self-aggrandizing, self-centeredness, narcissism (kind of), which is exactly what it is when I sit down and type “I” this many times.

I just really want to figure this mystery out. I want to know if I’m right, if this is my purpose, or if it’s all chaos and this is just a fluke.

Either way. No matter how many times I say it, I’ve never really believed anything, not all the way through.

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Published by: crucifixionqueen

Full-time freelance developmental editor and evaluator, writer, mom, know-it-all. I have an MFA in fiction from NC State University, an MA from Manhattanville College, and a BA from SUNY Purchase. I'm here to make the world a better place.

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