I had a dream, after I turned the alarm off this morning, that has me pretty much convinced I’m still dealing with a pesky, unresolved issue in my life.
I was involved in a worship service somewhere, dressed in jeans and a polo shirt while the pastor was decked out in full alb, chasuble, and stole, in a large room packed to the gills with people. I was given the nod to start the service by leading the congregation in some piece of liturgy, moving to the middle of the room, and realizing as I walked that I couldn’t find—and had actually forgotten—the piece I was supposed to be leading. It was in another notebook somewhere else.
So I just kept walking around, flipping pages, hoping I’d find it, trying to make light of my predicament and talking to people as I went.
The pastor, having sensed that I was stalling and something wasn’t right, had the entire congregation stand and greet one another while I fumbled and searched. I never found what I needed– knowing I wouldn’t but hoping I would– and then I woke up, relieved.
The dreams have never lasted long enough for me to experience the consequences of my lack of preparation– there’s never resolution one way or another. But I got to thinking maybe this is all a commentary on my struggles with faith itself, with commitment, with making a decision and charting a course once and for all. Or maybe the same dynamic still exists in retirement—no sense of purpose, no clear path, just lackadaisical, aimless wandering.
I don’t know, but I wasn’t expecting to still be haunted by this. It makes me wonder what needs to happen, what needs to change.
Sometimes I feel like an impostor in my own life.
3 Cents' 