As it turns out I was conserving energy. Every Friday and Saturday in the hours before dawn I awake with a start. The nightmare is the same: I’ve slept through all of my music classes, children are crying, families are leaving, urgent messages blink on the machine and my head spins plausible exuses. In three years of teaching I’m hard pressed to find a single music day that hasn’t started this way. If this were high school I’d be a junior now and my brain, a shrunken piece of charred gristle. One must conclude I daydreamed my way through early schooling because investing in it would have killed me for sure! The educators who believed in me despite my laziness all said the same thing: wait and see, she’s probably a late-bloomer.
Another recurring nightmare once plagued me. I would shoot straight up in bed, look around and find myself in the bedroom of my youth. All would be as it was, as if I’d never left – never drove solo across the country or lived in California, never met TonyC – my entire life had been a dream. The sound of sobs would rouse me then a hand on my back, “It’s ok, you’re dreaming,” TonyC would whisper. And I cry for relief – it was real and I am here. The dream stopped when we moved to this house.
I know some of you are shy and prefer emailing me instead of posting, but I’m asking you to share your thoughts if you can. What do your stress dreams look like?