Dreaming of boxes and politics
It had been bothering me all day – lurking on the edges of my consciousness. – bits of a dream that disappeared when I woke – but not quite.
There was an image of the insides of a small flat box – slightly rectangular in shape - hanging out. Kind of like a computer chip with those tiny telltale dots and squares in an odd and unsymmetrical pattern – like the ones Pete used to keep as samples in his desk drawer.
Why did my mind’s eye keep flashing on the almost imperceptible image that made me feel slightly anxious?
Nothing fell into place, a long time later - as I finished nuking all the heating pads I use each night to relax the spasming muscles in order to dissipate the pain. Just then – in that moment – I realized what it was. Why did it trouble me so?
It was the part of my cordless mouse which plugs into my laptop – its insides all exposed and strung out - which was damaged the night before when the whole thing slipped off my lap.
The mouse can be replaced, and I had another one which is not so efficient but which could be used. And was.
But this little inanimate object - this poor broken little inanimate piece of machinery which will be thrown away with the rest of the trash when its replacement arrives – represented more.
It represented that part of me, which was broken – the part of me, which has been exposed…. And the old fear – the one that always reemerges with every attempt to let myself be seen in order to connect with another.
That old risk – that some of us are willing to take in order to find a friend. The knowledge that our openness could later be used as a weapon to be hurled against us when things go wrong.
Our honesty - which people say is a virtue - but nevertheless can hurt us - if we are not careful.
How is this connected to the latest story about some sort of feud between two contenders for the crown … which every shill and barker think will bring them a few more viewers.
Shameless tactics of diversion to once again defocus us from the real issues of the day! Not unexpected, but nonetheless disconcerting - as the public, once again, draws a veil over its eyes. It makes me weep.