The next morning was so different. I woke tired after a late night and sleep vibrant with dreams or may be they were nightmares. They were full of energy like a thriller at the cinema. So much activity that it was like being awake while I’m asleep. As much as I wanted to stay in bed, recover my exhaustion from sleep and enjoy at least half an hour in front of the television I wanted to open the curtains and find out how come so much light was coming in from the countryside.
It was a bright sunny day with spring like sunlight shining strong. I left the curtains open a jar. It was like the order for some happy blue skies were sent by next day before-noon delivery and the courier had arrived bang on time. The morning became relaxed and my happiness was slowly returning. Optimism for the future. Happiness in my own skin. Eventually I got up and dressed in my most lounge worthy summer clothes leaving my nails painted with the Arctic blue varnish from the night before. Black linen trousers and light grey cotton cami vest under a soft cotton beach top.
Even my aching joints seemed dulled a little. The sun lasted until two in the afternoon. The clouds gathered and the greys and misty rain approaching from the south changed the flow of the day. Even so my mood stayed good. When I noticed the rain start from the kitchen window I went to the patio doors and opened them. I watched for a moment as dense droplets splashed down with a sprinkle of tiny gritty hail mixed within. Despite this I was good. I realised it wasn’t just the blue skies that had brought me back. I was already in a serotonin induced state when I’d woken. I stood there appreciating the sounds and feel of the rain as it fed the ground. Happiness is just a cycle of waves changing with the tide.
It had been December since James and I had spoken. James, the one who knows and who dabbles. With busy lives, mine in finding a way to live and his with his family, it’s not unusual to find time to catch up. I decided we’d not spoken for far too long and text him.
“Hey you. How’s things?”
“Hey stranger.” came the reply. We caught up the last two months quickly.
“Got my new running shoes.” I said. We’d not been running together since we’d last spoken.
“I’ve had terrible foot pain. Have to see doctor again but might have to give up running altogether. Gutted.”
This was terrible news. While I enjoy my running time alone I enjoy having that company on special occasions when we get to run together, discuss clothes and share the same wishes when think who’d we like to be. He is one of the few people I share some of these things. I also felt for him. He’d put so much effort into running and enjoying it. I’ve had my own foot pains recently but now I feel better I will at least be able to continue to run alone. With blue skies and warmer climates slowly returning my weekend runs along the coast or on the sands of the long beaches, as well as the usual roads through the countryside, are going to be the added therapy I need.
Despite this hint of optimism it’s been an unusual week of soul searching. Trying to find that clear head that I had last year that for some reason has taken a holiday. Dealing with the natural testosterone still gently surfing it’s way through my veins. There is little I can do about that though and so all I can do is be as much of myself as I can; after all there is more to life than just body chemistry.
All this had even sparked some vivid dreams. It started at a hair stylists. I sat down and they’d asked me what I want. “Oh, just a trim.” I said but even in this dream I knew I wanted a little more and so did the stylist. “Okay, just leave it to me.” she said. She cut beautiful layers into my long hair, shortening it a little from what it is now with styled bangs. There was something very specific though. Something that I noticed and that my attention was drawn to.
I looked to my right as she finished up and noticed that she had made a single very fine plait with just a few strands. One on the right side of my head and another on the right. She then took the long straight hair strands of the tips of the bangs in the front and behind and pinned them to the end of the plaits. It was unusual but in my dreamy state I liked it. It was as if the stylist had read my soul to decide how to do my hair.
I woke and immediately thought about it while I lay in bed. I can usually find meaning in a dream, especially when my attention is brought so vividly towards something specific. Usually if there is something like a cat involved it will be about femininity or running can suggest confidence about something, they’re never literal but a hair cut and a fine plait; what did it mean. I had been thinking about my hair recently. Wanting to change it but not wanting to be disappointed either. I want it to be something new. May be it was literal but somehow I didn’t think so. They rarely are. There was something about the plait. May be it was the point of no return. Something outwardly feminine that others will see. The idea of me taking another step forward in this lull waiting for the doctors to make some decisions for me.
Nearly a week on and the dream is still so vivid. Enough that it has stuck as if it’s something I need to or will fore-fill. I was curious and looked up plait in a psychological dream dictionary. There were some interesting quotes on a plait in a dream, ‘It also represented the influences which were assimilated by a growing girl and taking into her understanding of herself as a woman.’ It took my breath for a moment. I continued reading, ‘In dreams it therefore represents womanhood.’ May be there was something from the psychology of the dream I could gain from this. I wondered if the thin width of the plait meant something. May be it meant the start of my womanhood. The part of me that is slowly stepping up and showing to the world the part of me I want each day. I couldn’t let the dream rule my thoughts every day. I would be better off just getting on living.
One day this week I had sat down in the office just after making that first cup of tea and getting the energy together needed to make a start with the working day. Before I started I had been flicking through some random photos a work colleague was interested in. I got to the last photo and couldn’t remember if there was one more. I slid across to the next and got half way when I realised it was my profile photo. The one I had temporarily put in the album to update my profile. I let the photo slide back out of sight but it was too late. It was me standing on the beach on the left of the photo. He may have only seen a small part of the photo but he saw all of me.
“Who was that girl.” he said.
“Oh it’s just a web site.”, that was good to know I thought.
Until next time.