Monday, March 28, 2005

These Dreams...

... go on when I close my eyes. I'm not talking about the Wilson sisters (although M did get a Heart Greatest Hits album recently). I'm talking about one way I know animal communication is what I really want to be doing with my life. I've been having these dreams lately. In each one, I have to save Maya, our cantankerous and deaf cat, from some impending doom. This has ranged from a fire drill to an actual fire, from being forced to move out of our place due to some financial ruin to rescuing her from a building next to one that has been blown up by terrorists. Maya is pretty good as I cradle her in my arms and run for safety amidst the confusion, at first. But I know the minutes are numbered before she starts to struggle, and I may lose her completely in the chaos as she becomes irritable or scared by the situation and wriggles free. I feel mounting alarm as I worry that I will lose her and may not know if she is safe. I will both miss her terribly and feel as though I have failed.

Once again, my subconcious? With the subtlety? Not so much. Clearly not only have I been feeling guilty that I've been behind on Ms. Maya's columns since I got sick (I swear she has been put out at me lately, and looking somewhat unhealthy), but I am worried about all my animal and human clients who I have been powerless to assist while lost in vertigo-induced la-la land. Every day I get a couple more messages from clients anxious about a lost cat, a dog with cancer, or an animal friend who has recently died. I want to help them so much! But then I look at the backlog of clients I am still trying to catch up on, and it overwhelms me. I know being sick for a month is no 9/11 terrorist attack, but my subconcious is obviously using some exaggerated metaphors to let me know that I am waaay anxious about this. And did I mention I am still in the middle of re-organizing my files and doing my taxes?

I know I will catch up, somehow, and I know I still need to take time for myself to relax, meditate and continue to get better, or I'll be no good to anyone. But I tend to spiral into these fear-of-impotency panics... "all the animals in the world are going to suffer if I don't help them right now, and it's my fault!"... even though, realistically, I know that my clients always have the option to take up my offer for a referral and I am Just. One. Person.

The good news is that I have other reasons for believing this really is my calling - the top of the list being just how damn delightful I find a good chat with most animals and their people, and how incredibly good I feel when I get something I never would have imagined exactly right, or actually help to facilitate an understanding between beings that haven't been getting along, or even help an animal or person feel or behave better. But, being the person that I am, I suppose the freaky dreams and bouts of anxiety are bound to go along with the territory when I feel all that goodness in my life is somehow threatened. That and the fact that I'm no longer passed out on Trazadone every night. Ever try to kick a sleeping aid?

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