Lyn Holley
Member
I am in a writing class far from home. The teacher reminds me a bit of Deanna Fouin. (Jungian therapist I had years ago). We are staying in a dorm of sorts. Deanna asks us to take a suitcase, put things in it, and leave it on a path. I must say, this is a beautiful place. It is hilly and on the ocean. There is a lovely, winding path through grain or golden grasses. I leave my suitcase there. There is another woman with me who reminds me of a paraprofessional from L.Leo Judice a school I served as speech therapist. Pam, I think her name was; she was artistic. I go to class and we are supposed to write. Now I can’t quite put my finger on it, but maybe to write something about our journey. We are complaining about this unorthodox class. Deanna has to go, so a man takes over the class. I don’t have any associations with him. He is a bit stoic and expressionless.
I tell the teacher I don’t think I can find my bag. He sends some people with me to look. One is a male friend of Elsebeth’s, my Danish musician friend. I try to find the path, but I cannot. At one point, we end up beside a neo-classical facade of a building. I am disturbed that I can’t find the path or my bag. My dad is supposed to come visit or call, but he doesn’t. I call home a bunch of times. Finally, Peyton (great nephew, classical cello musician) answers on a video call, he is a bit perturbed. He says Nana (my mother) shouldn’t have just taken off like that. He is alone there. He sees I have called many times.
Finally, I send Pam to retrieve the suitcase. She knows where it is, she saw me place it.
North Carolina, a state I often visit, and love, is woven through this dream. There is an invitation to move there, maybe Dee (my husband) wants to move there. I do not, I feel the winters will be too cold. (I live in Louisiana.) Any thoughts folks?
I tell the teacher I don’t think I can find my bag. He sends some people with me to look. One is a male friend of Elsebeth’s, my Danish musician friend. I try to find the path, but I cannot. At one point, we end up beside a neo-classical facade of a building. I am disturbed that I can’t find the path or my bag. My dad is supposed to come visit or call, but he doesn’t. I call home a bunch of times. Finally, Peyton (great nephew, classical cello musician) answers on a video call, he is a bit perturbed. He says Nana (my mother) shouldn’t have just taken off like that. He is alone there. He sees I have called many times.
Finally, I send Pam to retrieve the suitcase. She knows where it is, she saw me place it.
North Carolina, a state I often visit, and love, is woven through this dream. There is an invitation to move there, maybe Dee (my husband) wants to move there. I do not, I feel the winters will be too cold. (I live in Louisiana.) Any thoughts folks?