I am A Dork.
I dunno if you can tell but I was HEAVILY influenced by fiction/fantasy novels like the English Patient or The Dragon Lance Chronicles or Beach Music or A Boy’s Life or 1984 or The Wheel of Time series when I was a kid. I was enraptured with movies like The Princess Bride, Willow and The Neverending Story . I really, really want to be a princess still. True story. I think I’m safe in saying that bathing in these great works totally fucked the way I think about love, life and dwarves.
It’s not a bad kind of fucked – it’s the kind of opening to the grace and beauty people ask for…except my opening and understanding of “ the world” happened to be one of a world that doesn’t actually exist –Translation: Human interaction is nothing like my favorite movies and stories of all time – it is in fact quite different Think about how THAT served me when I was in my awkward teenage years & I never really got that
I am socially awkward to this day ( like ridiculously socially awkward) because I never really learned how to “be” around people, not without the representative firmly in place to shield me from judgment. Every once in a while, when I fail stupendously at engaging others ( aka I am fully myself) I stumble home & crack a book or chill at the talking table with Chu and wonder if I can- by sheer force of will- create a life that mirrors my fantasy place…cause it is SO much cooler and easier for me to be “there” instead of “here”.
Dreams and Logic
I have been told on more than one occasion that I live too much in my head.
I TOTALLY DISAGREE WITH THIS.I agree, though I would note that it isn’t my head that I live in – it’s my dreams. The head is a place where logos prevails and my dreams are this surreal, sleek, sexy, fuzzy place where I let go of being “ grown up Sara” and dive into being something so totally other that sometimes it hurts to come back into my body . My dreams are full of what would happen if Escher got a hold of the human heart and crafted it large with a paint brush provided by the Brothers Grimm. OR My dreams are like a million people lying & weaving a giant story together…and that story is Game of Thrones meets Fight Club meets a tax guide (What? I’m linearly confusing thus the tax guide).Time, belief systems, judgment and faith all cease to function in this place and everything feels like it’s made out of spun sugar and the stickiness of bodies pressed close together post-love making. All things are lessons in my head. All women are princesses of their own design and all men are on a journey of such worth that no words could describe the boon.
Let me show it to you in pictures because it is so much easier than trying to weave it in words.
My dream world is like this:
As a preface to telling you about how I wander so much in my dreamscape I feel obligated to say this:
I get shit done.
I participate in society. I work and cook and clean and engage with others. I have a retirement plan a house and a very sensible Subaru. I have at least one foot firmly rooted in this life… It’s just when I am doing these things I constantly thinking up ways to slip back into the spaces where books take me. Where practicing yoga asana or running or hiking or listening to gritty music or witnessing beautiful art or… anything that engages my soul takes me. When I am asked to engage in this waking life I wonder… why does it have to be the real world and my dream world an escape…my logical tax mind understands and she tells me, “humanity is built for drudgery”.
Life is Dukkha.
My kid self refutes this. My kid self makes sure to go down every slide and cart-wheel down hallways and wander barefoot through lush green grass whenever possible. My kid self says “fuck all that noise” and means it.
So I get shit done but I don’t know why I do sometimes… … sometimes I want to run off like a gypsy with my dog at my hip and a sack filled with all the things I need for basic survival… Like a pancake bunny.This need usually comes with the change in seasons from spring to the hot dry heat of summer.
Instead of running off I spend my spare moments bedding down with …dream stuff.
and wondering why I need to explain my lifeiness to a blog
There are times when I need to disappear into dreams because I do not function well in this “real world” full of meaningless darkness. We’ve talked about this. About how I lack a soul filter. About how pain creeps in and lays layers of suckling vines inside me. I have had this talk many times with the Grand Chu. He has this ability to spend most of his time in “his world” and eschew the deep shit associated with being rooted in “the world”. In fact when he does spend too much time here its Toilet’s in Mumbai and I find that to be even more enviable – that this world poison’s him and his creative internal world nourishes him. It’s like he gets to live “tapped in” all the time while I have this unwanted yet weathered constitution, hardened by years of experiencing too much with open a heart. I know that’s not right either though. Both ways of living have their sharp edges. Maybe he’s dying for a deadline to meet and I just don’t know.
So. What then is the answer to one of my greatest life questions?
Questions like this eat up days and months of my life.
How do I live in this world like I live in my dream world?
What makes that possible?
I thought once that I could find a way to lay my dream world and my real world over one another like a pair of overhead transparencies and live in a place of duality…or perhaps plurality is more apt….a world of many facets. Sadly when I try to do that I become waaay more crazy pants because there are a lot of parts that exist in the dreamscape that must remain there. Psycho-socially unacceptable things.
This is a rhetorical question of course … but it’s one that I think every human should ask as a responsibility to their soul space. How can I live my dream world more fully? How can I engage that “pancake bunny” part of myself? Or even, “what lives in my dream world?” I find that question to be one of the BIG ones…I was lucky enough to never have to dig in and consider it…my crazy illogical dreaming self has always been there.
I can’t tell you what lives in yours-just like you can’t tell me how to dance with my reticence of this world. . No one can and perhaps no one has ever struck that perfect balance. My balance at the moment is maintaining the part of me that still feels child like wonder. The part the eats ice cream and digs in the dirt and rolls down hills. That part is as close as I can come to waking dreaming…and it’s ok… especially when I find things like this: Where the Wild Things Are (as read by Christopher Walken)
- Reality or Dreams? (ambivalentlyopinionated.wordpress.com)
- Dream World (greymatterdiaries.wordpress.com)
- Street Style: Sara’s Favorite Movie is The NeverEnding Story (fashionista.com)
- Blurred Boundaries (dragonintuitive.com)