How to Steer Your Dreams

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I remember feeling safe. Our bodies were pressed together, recesses and curves paired together as though from complementary molds. His smell was familiar, both comforting and intoxicating, bringing contentment with a whisper of passion. My eyes were closed as we began to kiss, slow caresses that were full of promise and affection. As our lips parted, I pulled back and opened my eyes.

In my dream, I screamed and shoved him away in disgust and revulsion.

In my bed, I sat straight up, my pulse racing and my stomach queasy.

It had happened again.

For the first several months after he left, some version of this dream would visit me on a regular basis. It was one of those persistent ones. The kind that leave a lasting mark like the reddened skin after a pinch, coloring the entire day. I hated those dreams. They embodied my shock and confusion at the discovery that my protector had turned into my persecutor as the dream flipped from love to horror. Furthermore, the dream made me feel violated and dirty, as I no longer felt any sort of attraction to him.

I hated them.

But still they came.

Quickening the pulse and deadening the day.

I tired of them.

I tried ordering my brain to stop force-feeding me those images while I was defenseless.

It stubbornly refused, simply providing variations on a theme.

So I got creative.

It’s impossible to fully control your dreams. Yet you can apply some strategies that help to steer them in the direction you want:

Purge

If you fall asleep with a whole bunch of toxic sludge filling your thoughts, it is no surprise that those thoughts will work themselves into an unwanted dream. Before you head to bed, purge your mind of all those worries and fears bu simply jotting them down. This is not a full writing exercise, simply a listing of words and/or phrases that capture the negativity on your mind. Let it go first and perhaps it will let you rest in peace.

Replace

If your dream is like mine where the context is fine and the person is the problem, work to replace them in your mind. Before you fall asleep, picture the replacement in the situation. If you awake from the dream, similarly picture the stand-in. It’s often easier to tweak an element of a dream than to try to suppress the entire thing.

Edit

Another way to actively modify your dream is to rewrite the portion that causes grief. Most likely, the worst part of the “story” occurs at the point where it awakens you. So, once you are awake and in control again, finish out the story, bringing an ending that is less painful. You’re telling yourself, “Yes, that was scary. But it was not the end of the story. I can still change the outcome.”

Listen

Sometimes our dreams contain a message. Sometimes there are themes we need to address in our lives or voids we need to fill. Examine your dream, looking not at the literal components, but at the overarching truths. Is there something there that you’ve been hesitant to face in your real life? If so, this is your wake-up call.

Journal

Journal writing exists in the space between the conscious and unconscious minds. It is uniquely positioned to allow your thinking self to dialog with your feeling self. Write about your dreams without censorship. Explore the paths that appear. And don’t hesitate to build new paths as well.

Prime

Be cognizant of what you are exposed to right before bed. If your reading or viewing selection if fraught with tension and dark themes, it primes the mental pump to continue these in to slumber. Instead, select media that provides a sense of levity or comfort and allow it to infuse your dreams.

Live

This is perhaps the most important piece. Live while you are awake. Don’t allow your nightmares to limit your dreams.

Once I instituted these ideas, the dreams began to lose their power. First, their intensity was lessened as he was replaced by a replacement. I would still wake up, but I would be left with a feeling more of confusion than of horror. Then, the dreams began to lose their frequency, becoming more and more rare as I addressed the root emotions and continued to build my new life. And now, those dreams are only a memory, safely buried.

The “Ikea Effect” in Marriage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

My aunt and uncle came through Atlanta a couple of weeks ago on their trek to escape the horrid winter the north has experienced this year. It was their first time visiting the house we bought a year and a half ago.

And as I was taking them on the obligatory house tour, I realized something.

I don’t feel a super-strong sense of ownership of my home. At least not like I did with my old house. With my first property, there was not a wall I didn’t paint, a floor I didn’t redo or a room that wasn’t meticulously planned and executed. I was proud of that house, not because it was so great, but because my then-husband and I created it through endless hours of sweat and tears, late-night marathons of Love Line alternating with the soundtrack from Jesus Christ Superstar and countless creative work-arounds to create our vision on the cheap. We made that house.

I love my home now. Unlike the last one, this one didn’t require endless hours (and dollars!) to make it what we wanted. In most ways, it was move in ready. All we have really personalized at this point is the basement theater and, to a much lesser extent, the yard.  Which has been awesome (especially because it gives us time to live, not just renovate). Yet it also changes how I feel about the house. It’s mine, but it’s not born of me. I live here, but I didn’t have to give it life.

Economists have dubbed the impact of sweat equity on emotions the “Ikea effect” after the attachment people can feel to their inexpensive mass-produced furniture after they have contributed their effort in the turns of a few cam nuts and the insertion of countless wooden dowels.

It’s why people often have an inflated sense of value of a home they have renovated or believe that others will hold their creations in high regard. It is even part of what makes every parent believe their child is special.

When we build it, we appreciate it.

All of these thoughts tumbled through my mind as I led them through the rooms. Honestly, it was starting to make me feel like we needed to fast-track some of the non-essential projects we have planned for the future.

And then I realized the impact the Ikea effect has on my marriage.

Unlike my first marriage, this one was born of intention and effort on both of our parts. We have removed the rotten pieces of our pasts, sanded smooth the rough edges and built upon the reinforced foundation.

And when we build it, we cherish it.

I may not have much sweat equity in my house yet (although this gardening season will change that. literally.), but I have plenty of sweat equity in my marriage. A trade-off I am more than okay with.

Where do you see the Ikea effect in your life?

Five Years Ago Today

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Five years ago today, I awoke afraid of seeing the man who had abandoned me eight months before. And when he passed me in the courthouse hall, I didn’t even recognize him.

Five years ago today, I was ready for the divorce I never wanted from the man I thought I knew.

Five years ago today, I sat in a courtroom with the man I had spent half of my life with. A man I once considered my best friend. We never made eye contact.

Five years ago today, I looked at his face for any sign of the man I had loved.  I saw none. After sixteen years, he was truly a stranger to me.

Five years ago today, I sat alone in a hallway waiting for the attorneys to decide his fate and mine. Hoping that the judge saw through his lies and would not fall sway to him charms. She didn’t, even asking my husband’s attorney if he was “psycho.” The lawyer could only shrug.

Five years ago today, I cried and shook with the realization that it was all over. It was a relief and yet the finality was jarring.

Five years ago today, I felt a heaviness lift as I cut the dead weight of him from my burden. I believed I couldn’t begin to heal until his malignancy had been removed.

Five years ago today, I laughed when I learned he hadn’t paid his attorney. I had warned the man my husband was a con. Maybe he believed me now.

Five years ago today, I held tightly to that decree, still believing that its declarations had power. I felt relief that he would have to pay back some of what he stole from the marriage. The relief was short lived.

Five years ago today, I took my first steps as a single woman. Steps I never expected to take. The first few were shaky. But I soon started to find my stride.

Five years ago today, I sat around a restaurant table with friends and my mother. A table that had held my husband and I countless times over our marriage. We celebrated the end of the marriage that night. I had celebrated my anniversary there the year before.

Five years ago today, I read my husband’s other wife’s blog for the last time, curious if she would mention anything about the court date. She did not. I erased the URL from my history. It no longer mattered.

Five years ago today, I sealed the piles of paperwork from the divorce and the criminal proceedings into a large plastic tub. As the lid clicked in place, I felt like I was securing all of that anguish in my past.

Five years ago today, I started to wean myself off of the medication that allowed me to sleep and eat through the ordeal. I was thankful it had been there, but I no longer wanted the help.

Five years ago today, I fell asleep dreaming of hope for the future rather than experiencing nightmares of the past.

And now, five years on, I could not be happier with where I am.

Not because of the divorce.

But because losing everything made me thankful for everything.

Because being blind made me learn how to see.

Because being vulnerable created new friendships and bonds.

Because being destroyed made me defiantly want to succeed.

And because losing love made me determined to find it again.

I am happier than I’ve ever been.

And I could not be where I am without five years ago today.

The Shortcut for Healing After Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Every spring, I hear a common refrain in my classroom. Almost as predictable and consistent as the tree frogs singing outside.

We are at the point in the curriculum where topics have built and overlapped upon each other until a single problem can take up half of a piece of paper. Each day, as I painstakingly go over each step (after anchoring the new material to the known and illustrating the meaning behind the process), I inevitably hear a voice, “Okay, so what’s the shortcut?” And then, since 8th graders are famous for tuning out, I hear the same question repeated throughout the class.

And I have to be the one to break it to them.

There is no shortcut.

There is only process.

One step at a time that breaks the seemingly insurmountable heap of algebra into smaller and smaller digestible pieces.

Until the x has been stripped of all its mystery and power and isolated on the other side of the equal sign.

I hear a similar refrain the newly divorced throughout the year. The words vary, but the intent is the same:

“What’s the shortcut to healing?”

And I have to be the one to break it to them.

There is no shortcut.

There is only process.

One step at a time that breaks the seemingly insurmountable heap of hurt into smaller and smaller digestible pieces.

Until the ex has been stripped of all his or her mystery and power and isolated on the other side of the mental divide.

I teach my students about the power of intention. I coach them to remind themselves at the outset of a problem what they are trying to accomplish. Then, at each step along the way, I ask them to question if that choice helps them reach their stated goal.

As newly-minted mathematicians, they make mistakes and often work inefficiently. Yet, if they keep their goal in mind, they get there, even if it takes more paper or the use of an eraser. And, by remembering their intention, they know when they are finished and the goal has been reached.

Healing is no different. Set your intention at the outset. What are you trying to accomplish? Before you act, ask yourself if it helps you move towards your goal. If you misstep, don’t stop. Simply back up and try a new path.

I work to set a classroom environment where mistakes are opportunities and it is okay to ask for assistance. I alternately push them and praise them as I move them along. I aim for them to always be a little uncomfortable; too easy and they don’t grow, too hard and they give up in frustration.

Make your environment a positive one. Surround yourself with the right people. Learn from mistakes. Ask for help when you need it. And strive to keep yourself just a little bit out of your comfort zone. That’s where the magic happens.

When my students ask me about a shortcut, I try to listen to their complaints. Yes, I admit to them, the process is somewhat arduous and has places where they may falter. Yes, I agree with their cries, that that they may make many mistakes and that starting over is both frustrating and disheartening. And yes, I empathize with their pleas, that they wish they didn’t have to do this.

And after I listen, I reassure.

Yes, you may stumble. And if you keep moving towards your goal, you will get there.

Yes, it will be difficult sometimes. And when you reach your goal, you will be stronger than ever before.

Yes, there are times it will feel impossible. And you will feel so amazing when you accomplish the impossible.

Yes, I will be here for you when you need me. And I will help you need me a little less every day.

Yes, you can do this. And once you believe you can, you will.

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The Birchbox Effect

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I did something a bit out of character yesterday.

I sought out a website, entered my credit card information and hit “subscribe” for something that is far from a necessity.

At least not in the strictest sense.

I certainly do not need a monthly box of beauty samples.

But things are often more than skin deep.

And that is the case here.

I somehow doubt that I am a typical customer for Birchbox. I never feel more insecure than when I enter a cosmetic store or hair salon. I have to remind myself to throw away eye makeup before it goes bad and the four bottles of nail polish I’ve owned for the last several years probably have gone bad. My hair dryer is rarely used and my shampoo is of the knock-off variety. I can get ready in the same amount of time as my husband. Or even less.

In other words, I rarely put time, money or energy into skin care, hair or makeup.

Yet, in those rare moments where I do spend a little extra on typically feminine pursuits, I feel good. I get a little thrill out of trying a new product or a new color. I find that playing with makeup can make me feel a little playful (as well as a little anxious!). Additionally, I enjoy surprises and trying something new.

I’ve also been neglecting myself a bit lately. I’ve been doing the necessities, but falling into the trap of everything being another item on the to-do list.

So the monthly Birchbox is a gift to myself. A small smile to look forward to every month. A reminder to stop and smell the rose-scented lotion. A tap on the shoulder telling me to embrace my femininity and to take the time away from the lists to take care of myself. And practice approaching that which makes me anxious with a sense of curiosity rather than unease.

I’m dubbing it the “Birchbox Effect,” a recurring reminder to appreciate the small gifts in life.

What’s your Birchbox Effect?