Loose Leaf Notes

Joe and I were in a foreign country, France I think.  We spent the night in a hotel or a B&B room, and in the morning he had to go somewhere, so he dropped me off in the city to explore.  I did some half-hearted sightseeing, but, as the day went on, anxiety began to build with the realization that I didn’t know where Joe went or why.  I had no phone number for him and I didn’t know how to get back to the hotel.

I began to look for a place to sit down and use my smart phone to find some help. I walked passed many cafes but didn’t want to buy anything, so I picked spot of grass next to a tree and sat. I pulled out the phone, only to discover that Joe had upgraded it, and I had no idea how to work it. Shaking, I pressed the button and desperately tried to ask Siri to get directions for Pat and John in North, Carolina (my first in-laws who I loved but who have both recently passed away and have never lived in North Carolina).

The phone was in pieces like a deck of cards or a puzzle and only played annoying music in response to my request.   I stood up, looked around and noticed it was getting dark.  Once it was dark I wouldn’t be able to see anything, let alone find the way back to the room, which was more of a car ride away than a walk.

A man in black walked by and asked in a French accent (which is why I guessed we were in France) if I wanted a ride in his car.  I knew that would be a bad idea and said, “No.”  A sense of complete hopeless came over me with the awareness that we had made no plan, that I didn’t know where I was, where I was going or who I could turn to for help.  The stress was overwhelming. My brain wasn’t working right and the harder I tried to think about how to solve the problem, the worst it felt.

Part 2:   I woke up for real and was still distraught. I continued to perseverate on the problem and realized I would have had to find a place to sleep outside and try to find an embassy or police station in the morning. But what would I tell them?  I took something to calm down and eventually went back to sleep and found some resolution.

Part 3:  I was still in France, in a nightclub, and two old friends (who used to be married but aren’t anymore) were there. We exchanged gifts and had some heartwarming words for each other.  I met the woman’s new partner, who I thought looked like an old man, but in reality he was probably my age.  Then I noticed a couple of people from Floyd in the back. I went over to talk and asked them if I could ride in their car. Someone said there wasn’t much room in it, but that they would squeeze me in.  I felt relieved.

Note: The reason I say that the story is true is that on an emotional level, it was.  I say it’s the story of my life because it’s part of a series of dreams I’ve been having for years about being abandoned and lost in places I’m not familiar with (probably a reflection of my insecurities formed by being separated from my mother and all family members on two extended occasions before the age of one).

As heavy as the dream was, I felt the gift of the insight into my psyche, and the story gave past emotional trauma a context.  I was also able to find some humor in the experience.  After telling the dream to Joe in the morning, I said to him, “And the worst part? I never even got to see France or enjoy it.”    2/15