Just before New Year’s Eve I dreamed of a rose growing around the pine tree that stands tall and erect in our garden. It was the most magnificent rose I had ever seen. It’s stem encircled the tree and rose it’s heady scent to the sky. I woke up the next morning, with Sophie snuggled into my side, and felt peaceful. The sun was breaking through the curtains and I felt an urgent sense to let the light in and throw off the bleariness of sleep. When I opened the curtains I looked upon the freshly turned soil of our garden, which was being cleared for landscaping, and amongst the bare soil (which had been hidden under a mass of weeds) was a single, pink rose. Our gardener is always good to leave anything worth saving, he couldn’t have possibly known how much that rose meant to me on that morning.
I went to my bookcase to unearth an old dream interpretation book and fingered through the pages, to learn of the significance of my dream, and read, ‘In general, flowers in dreams symbolize neglected or hidden talents, abilities or potentialities. The rose can stand for perfection.’
Being a parent to two beautiful girls keeps me busy day and night, 365 day’s a year. I do not resent the way my time is consumed in caring for the holistic needs of my children, though I have allowed myself to become hidden in meeting their needs and, like many other individuals, have felt a shadow of depression in my soul. My children need me on all levels, but they also need to see me as the individual I was prior to becoming a parent. They need to see that I am still growing and learning. I want them to see the wonder in my eyes, as much as I marvel at them utilizing their six senses to grasp at the world around them.
Four year’s ago I used to write short stories for my own pleasure, or merely write what I was feeling, remembering or wondering about. Writing was therapy for me and I felt as though I was always on the cusp of discovering something new and exciting. I loved playing with words and mixing the sequence, style and vocabulary in attempt to articulate what I wanted to express. I enjoyed seeing my writing develop and improve as I spent more time and energy at the keyboard. I laughed, with a wince of stupidity, at the mistakes of earlier writing and the cliches I had blindly written.
This year, 2007, I have already started to free the creative soul trapped within. I have started to write again. Every night after the children are asleep, I sit down to my keyboard and let myself go. Despite being sleep deprived, with frequent night feeds and going to bed too late, I am now feeling more energized during the day. My mind isn’t just focused on fixing meals, keeping the house in order and the children entertained. It feels great to be thinking for myself again. I am dreaming again and my dreams are fueling my creative urges to write. I resolve to keep dreaming and growing, just like the rose in my garden and in my soul.
