Dreaming Too Much
/How well do you remember your dreams? Long enough to pester innocent victims by describing them?
A few nights ago, I dreamed that someone I knew and trusted asked to borrow something from me, and I squirmed in my sleep the remainder of the night deciding whether I could loan it. I’ve learned not to loan anything to anyone unless I’m prepared to lose it forever. Otherwise, I run the risk of resentment and lost relationships.
That question was all I remembered from my dream. I have no idea who was asking, or what they wanted to borrow, or why it was so important to me. The details vaporized immediately.
The fact that I even remembered as much as I did was remarkable since my dreams have an extremely brief half-life. Details disintegrate faster than I can recall them, certainly faster than I can write them down. That’s why I’m always impressed by the great dreamers of the Bible, such as Daniel and Ezekiel, who remembered page after page of complicated details long enough to record them on papyrus using a dip pen.
I asked on Facebook: What do you own that you won’t (or are highly unlikely to) loan out, even to a friend you know and love and trust (besides underwear, etc.)?
People responded they wouldn’t loan their flute, list of passwords, dog, chef’s knives, sewing scissors, official Star Wars costumes, vintage muscle car, trombones, cast iron skillets, or DSLR camera. It was a wide variety of answers revealing volumes about the person answering.
Through the years I’ve grown increasingly generous with my life and possessions, but I still have valuables I cling to. Mostly it isn’t about monetary value, but my own invested time and energy and insight.
My mother-in-law used to borrow my clothes when she visited. She would stay for several days bringing nothing with her, and then ask to borrow a toothbrush or hairbrush or clothes. She couldn’t wear anything of Cyndi’s so she would ask me if I had any T-shirts she could wear. I kept some in a special section of my closet, ready to go and never see again. However, I wouldn’t, and won’t, loan any of my marathon shirts, or favorite race shirts … I had too much invested in those.
What else is on my list? I won’t loan my King silver trombone, my Daily Bible, my journal, or books I’ve spent a lot of time with and made notes in the margin and taught lessons from. I’m sure there is more to put on my list, but that’s all that came to mind.
So, I had the dream Saturday night after Cyndi and I spent several days in Tennessee at the National Storytelling Festival. One of our favorite speakers, Donald Davis, told about the destruction and resulting cleanup at his home on Ocracoke Island after Hurricane Dorian scoured the village before drowning it in five-to-seven feet of water. After spending days cleaning neighborhood possessions piled in his front yard, Davis said one of the things he learned was this – we have too much stuff.
“Here’s the problem,” Davis said. “We’re not going to get rid of it. We need something to come along, like a hurricane, and take it away.”
Cyndi and I have been moving furniture to the middle of rooms, boxing books and (what my grandmother used to call) whatnots, in anticipation of repainting the interior of our house – the one we still call our new house even though we’ve lived in it eleven years.
One day Cyndi, looking at the full shelves of dishes and bowls and kitchen gear, said, “Some of this won’t make it back into the cabinets. Maybe repainting will be our mini hurricane, taking some of this stuff away.”
I hope she’s right. We have enough. It’s time to loosen our grip and release a bit more. Maybe I can simply loan it all out, and then forget to collect it. Would that be possible, or am I still dreaming?
“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32
