Mine was about driving onto an icy lake and various scenarios of drowning. According to the dozen or so dream dictionaries I just referenced online, my dream has less to do with a fear of water than my overall struggle with fear.
And damnit, my fear is winning.
As I lie here, gripped with panic over what I should have done differently in my dream scenario, I'm overwhelmed with the feeling that I never should have been in that minivan on the ice, I shouldn't have listened when the person driving me said it would be fun, and I should have done more to save them when it all went south. But most of all, I'm feeling never do something that risky again.
That's giving in to my fear.
Which is not what I should be doing - as a writer or in life. Being an artist is all about disregarding and circumventing the omnipresent fear that you're not good enough, everyone hates your art, and that you're making a huge mistake with your life.
Fear kills creativity and fluidity. It stops the process in its tracks for a time consuming, soul sucking, losing battle that drains all the wind out of my sails. And picking myself up can be exhausting and feel like a losing battle as well. Fear is the absolute worst.
I don't have time for fear. I don't have time to waste on these self-doubting diversions. I have so many scripts to finish and deadlines to meet and so, so many words to write. I need to move forward, not stand still. The stories abound in my spirit and I need to get them out.
Perhaps my nightmare was simply showing me how much my fear has me at the moment. A warning alarm alerting me to the fact I need to push through something right now. It's certainly a message I can always use - now more than ever.
So that's how I'll take it. I'm not going to drown. Avoiding the adventure and driving away isn't the solution. There's a scenario where I drive onto the ice but don't drop through. I have my thrill and stay safe enough to make it back to shore. I don't die. I'm just fine.
Okay. Time to write...