Dream State

 

I think what we dream, and how we feel when we wake up from our dreams, is a vivid window into our lives. Like our sub-conscious is trying to reach into our world and tell us something – about what we fear or crave or like or don’t like.

 The other day I had a telling dream. In it, my whole family was at the airport, and so were all my cousins’ families. Our flight was significantly delayed, people were crabby, and the kids were starting to get hangry. 

My immediate impulse was to see this mini-crisis as a small opportunity. Could we give the teens some money to get food for themselves and Asher, while Amy and I went for a power walk through the terminal? But before I could actualize this plan, I noticed as all my cousins sprung into action in a more collective way, rallying around cousins who had smaller kids or special needs or otherwise needed extra support to survive this hiccup. 

I woke up feeling guilty. It was undeniable that my immediate impulse was to do something for myself (quality time with my wife), while everyone else’s was to look out for the greater good of the group. And it was undeniable that, as I woke from my dream and before I could logically think through the dream sequence, the emotion I was feeling was guilt. A window into my deeper inner musings. 

And an opportunity to probe this notion of whether it is ever ok to be selfish. Which of course the answer is yes. The very nature of self-care, in a world in which the opportunity to care for others is unlimited, is that we have to set boundaries in order to prioritize ourselves, both so that we are available to care for others and because our own wellness is a worthy thing to safeguard in and of itself. 

Perhaps my brain was, subconsciously, making a connection to an incident that had happened just a day prior to my airport dream, in which I was grappling with whether to be selfish or to serve one of our kids. It was a weekend day, yet I had been literally or figuratively running since the wee hours – exercise, cooking, cleaning, running Asher to his activities – and finally had a moment to plop down on the couch and watch some TV with Amy. Only for Asher to come in and ask for something of me, which I knew he would think was urgent but was not actually urgent. I told him I would help him but in an hour, and could I have some quality time with his mother first, which he found highly unacceptable but I held my ground. 

I often say that I want my kids to know they are the most important things in my life but they are not the only things in my life. It is healthy for them to know I would run through a brick wall for them. And it is healthy for them to know that sometimes I need or want to do something else first before I tend to their needs. There are times to be unselfish, to be sure. But it’s ok to be selfish too.