I Had a Dream

Van Gogh's Dream

I don't dream often or, rather, I don't remember dreams (they tell me everyone dreams). When I do dream, my dreams are usually pleasant or happy dreams. But last night I had a bad one. Not so bad, I suppose, as to call it a nightmare - no blood or gore or death and destruction. I dreamed that a creative thing I'm doing at work (I am a minister and this has to do with something in tomorrow's sermon), went terribly wrong. People refused to participate and almost everyone (actually, I think it WAS everyone) walked out. But what I had asked them to do was far from unreasonable and their reaction was way over the top. I got furious. I picked up a small brick and threw it against some kind of plaster scrollwork facade in the church and damaged it. I then sat on a little stool deeply dejected...

A young man I know came by and sat on a stool beside me and comforted me. He assured me that all would be OK. He didn't suggest that nothing was my fault. He didn't suggest that everyone who rejected me were fools. He was just there, giving encouragement....  End of dream.

And I thought about all that - the insecurity we all feel, often on a subconscious level,  that we will be rejected for creativity, that we will "lose it," that we will be alone in the world. And how wonderful it is when someone simply cares - does nothing particularly profound nor important - is just there.

Today - be that young man. Be someone who is there for someone when they feel down. We all need him or her - you.