Shfiting the burden

It's a rare morning that I don't remember at least one, and usually two or three, dreams from the night before. Sometimes they're reflections of odd things that happened during the day or things I know I've been stressing about. But often they're opportunities for my subconscious wisdom to break through the barriers I erect in my waking hours and give me some much-needed guidance. I treasure my dreams, and am grateful that they stick around after I greet the day.

Though Sandy carried many heavy and awkward
loads for me through the years, I apparently
never took a photo of her doing it. But I have
plenty of pictures of her being strong, and
working on finding her balance.

One of those guidance dreams came a couple of days ago. In the dream, I was with a group of people getting ready to attend some sort of event. We needed to take our tables with us. They were desk-size white-topped folding tables. Like the others, I folded mine, and began to carry it. It was tremendously awkward. I held the table top parallel to my body, clutching its edges. It was in my way as I walked; the weight of the table pulled me down; and I feared losing my grip. I wasn't sure how I was going to get the thing all the way to the event.

And then I watched another person carrying his table with ease. He'd turned it on its side. I tried that, and found that there was actually a protrusion that could serve as a handle. I lifted the table with my left hand, marveling at how light it seemed now. I credited the change in position, but was also aware that I wouldn't have been able to carry it with just one hand had I not been developing strength in my arms.

The dream devolved from there. We reached the event hall, which was full of middle school students yelling and screaming. I woke from the dream to the sounds of middle school students yelling and screaming as their parents dropped them off across the street for the first day of school. So that part of the dream was just an intrusion from the waking world.

What remained with me was this notion of carrying a weight differently, finding a handle, and counting on my strength. I've been playing with that idea since. I don't want to lay down the burden of my grief -- and especially not my memories -- but if I can carry them in a way that is less draining, less worrisome, and less painful? That would be amazing. So I'm open to finding a way to take advantage of my strength -- emotional rather than physical in this case -- as I somehow shift the burden.