I dreamed I was moving into a nursing-home with my mother. We were both getting old, and had various physical limitations, so it seemed like a sensible and natural arrangement.
To begin with, we shared a large room, sleeping together in a very wide bed. Her nearness did not disturb me at all, but we did not touch.
After a few days, she discovered an unoccupied room nearby, suggesting I might prefer it, as it would give me greater privacy. Accordingly, I went to see it.
The new room was very small, oddly-shaped, and quite claustrophobic. It was empty, and was being decorated. However, it was clearly mine for the taking, and I knew I could move in as soon as it was ready and furnished.
As I stood peering in, I found it impossible to decide whether I could tolerate its small size for the sake of the extra privacy…
…and that was the end of the dream.
Reflections
You may be wondering why I took the trouble to describe and describe such an apparently unremarkable dream. However, what made this dream special, indeed, unique in my experience, was how comfortable I felt whilst living close to my mother.
There was no sense of needing to get away from her, and I felt fine whether she was present or not. This had never been the case at any point during her life-time. Being with her had always been extremely stressful, because of her intrusiveness, criticism, judgement, anger, and destructive rage. From my earliest childhood onwards, I had feared her presence, loathed her touching me, and hated the sound of her voice.
On reflection, then, this dream suggests that not just my conscious mind, but my unconscious, too, have at last become a bit more comfortable with my abusive past at my mother’s hands.
However, I also note some elements of caution in the fact that we did not touch, and in the extreme smallness of the private room, which still needed a fair amount of work before being ready for me to move in.
Furthermore, my difficulty in deciding whether or not to take the room, suggests a continuing degree of ambivalence towards my mother, though I have made good progress in coming to terms with our relationship and its consequences over recent years. Perhaps the inner space where I can be “myself” still isn’t quite as extensive as I like to imagine!
This is lovely, Ruth – the healing process in action. What I particularly liked was when your mother suggested you might prefer the other room. To me, this shows that she understands how you might be feeling and offered you a way to move away, should you wish to. I believe she knows that this healing needs to be taken slow and steady. It’s exciting to imagine what future dreams may reveal. xxx (I was looking at this last week and had to come back to it because it’s been on my mind … in a good way)
Hi Lesley, I’m very touched that you’ve taken such a kind interest in this dream. It’s sad that my mother never showed any sort of sensitivity whilst she was alive, but it’s encouraging to know that my unconscious mind can still imagine such things XXXX
My heart goes out to you, Ruth. I had a traumatic childhood too, which has made me very insecure. Trev, my darling husband, gave me this secured life, he gave me love and this is why I grief so much. I miss him.
Thank you so much for your message, Bea – its lovely to see you here. I’m so very sorry about the death of your dear husband. You clearly miss him terribly, and I know I would be just the same. We have the lasting legacy of our childhood wounds and scars in common, don’t we? I’ve never had the confidence to feel liked, or likeable xxxxxxxx