The other night I dreamed that I wrecked the car--it doesn't take someone with an advanced degree in Psychology to interpret that dream. I have spent some time wondering about the symbolism. Does my subconscious think I'm self-destructing? But the car wreck wasn't my fault--I didn't realize I was supposed to merge into the lane; I thought it would be my lane.
Maybe it does take someone with an advanced degree in Psychology after all. But my degree is in English--maybe I'm thinking about the symbolism too much.
In any case, that's how many of us in South Florida feel: we're living in the wreckage. And yes, I feel guilty about feeling that way because it could be so much worse. We're not in the lower Keys or Puerto Rico, after all.
Last night I found comfort in Krista Tippett's latest book: Becoming Wise. It's a wonderful compilation of segments of her past shows and her meditations on what it all means. I may have a more extensive review later, but it's one of those books that I will return to again and again, especially in the middle of the night when I need something that stops my hamster mind from going round and round on a wheel of worry.
My spouse needs a different approach. I said, "I prescribe you some time in the sun."
He said, "O.K. Doc."
Yes, with my Ph.D. in English, I can prescribe sunshine. Even in the wreckage, we can find comfort in time in the sun and a good book.
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