Oh sleeping dreams, a place where the mind can be free, where the subconscious can put any little thing into place and give us visions to inspire us on our path, affirm our deepest desires, release fears, or simply teach us a lesson. I had a sleeping dream recently that did all of that. From what I remember, it was not a long dream, and perhaps I was in this dream space for hours, but when I woke I had a small but powerful vision, a snapshot, a moment that stuck with a very strong message.
This is how the dream went…
I was in a photography studio, a large spacious professional set up that had very high ceiling and no confining walls in sight. There was a huge white photography back drop creating an abyss of minimalist depth. Sitting on a simple wooden chair in the foreground was a beautiful model Mummy. One of the divinely stunning women who has modeled through her teenage years and then as a young adult has been blessed with an equally gorgeous child. The chair was turned side on, so that it was in profile position and the model’s long legs where sitting comfortably away from the chair and crossed neatly at the ankles. Her face was tuned towards the photographer and her lustrous locks curled over one shoulder. Dressed in neutral coloured clothing she was effortless and elegant. On her lap sat a child, a small boy of about six and atop his head was an outlandish mask. Not just any mask, but a very kooky paper bag mask that was covered in colourful bits of patchwork felt. The mask was three-dimensional rectangle, proportionally large and boxy with rounded white rimmed cut out eye circles. It was playful and wild and kind of might be scary but never could be because it was so bright and cheery and funny.
The mask was standing in for the boy’s personality, while giving him anonymity as he sat there on his mother’s lap for the photograph. It operated as the dominant focal point but it drew attention to the jacket the boy was wearing, which was a seasonal piece inspired by the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band jackets and iconically could only mean one thing…. “Oh my goodness” I said to myself, “I am at a Stella McCartney photo shoot!” It is quite a weird feeling to realise when you are dreaming that you are in your own dream, but you know I do like it.
So there I am, in my sleep dream, standing in a photography studio, where model Mummies and their children are being photographed in Stella McCartney clothes, and I am having a lovely time… well you would think so, but I wasn’t. As I stood next to the photographer who was a middle-aged plump man dressed in heavy black, I was overcome with jealousy! “Agghhrrr… that mask is so clever, why didn’t I think of that!” I whispered to the photographer. Uniting in a negative energy with the photographer we griped over wanting to be the creative genius and felt dull in our menial jobs of photographer and assistant.
At some point the dream ended and I came to my senses. I was not a stylish dissatisfied photography assistant in a world-class studio working on a series of images for Stella McCartney, I was a happy pretty mummy waking to a glorious day of nurturing and teaching my children. As I listened out for the girls to stir, I sifted through the nights thoughts and there like a golden nugget gleaming, was this imagined mask. Had it not been for the feeling of jealousy, I might not have paid so much attention, but when I sat with my lesson from the dream, about feeling jealous because I had not been the one to make the mask, which on a deeper level represented the importance of following my dreams and inner desire, I realised “Don’t be jealous, just do it, because if you do not do it, someone else will.”
Creativity is in the cosmos. It is there for the taking and if you are not there to accept the expression, someone else will be. It is like ideas are stars, just floating around the universe, and you have to be open and let the light in, to take the energy into you and let it manifest. Simply by stating I am creative, and setting up life so that the creativity can flow free, then something will come out of that, something… and it will feel meant to be and it will feel like you are living your destiny.
Then just like that I had to make the mask. It took a few moments to sink in that the mask in my dream was not actually made by someone else, it was all actually constructed by my imagination and so I would not be copying! “Oh, that mask is all my idea and it is vivid and doable and it wants to come to life!” I exclaimed with the excitement of an epiphany.
Out of bed I jumped and after breakfast and homeschool, and play and dishes and laundry and lunch and dishes and laundry and dinner and dishes were done, I went to work on the mask. It was fabulous to realise that in my dream state subconscious dimension I had been the jealous one, but in this dimension I could be the creative one! I do not ever want to be a person that is jealous, and through years of struggling with this I have gained sense enough that if jealousy arrises, harness the feeling positively and let it take you somewhere beautiful.
With a Wholefoods paper bag and a pile of felt scraps from years of crafting in hand, I set to work. In my diligent and determined manner I worked for hours. When Cam came down to the kitchen as he does before bed, there I sat deeply enjoying the process. Now as you can imagine with much love and admiration for me and my eccentricities, he had to start teasing me straight away. I can not think of the witty remarks right this moment, but there were numerous and they all alluded to me being crazy. I was so happy to be getting teased for making something whacko. “Yes! this is crazy and I love it” I said feeling chuffed for materialising the sleeping dream Stella mask.
I worked away on it for days and with it came much joy. It was art therapy and it was releasing something inside of me. Happiness and content and freedom to make anything! The process of sorting the pieces and fitting them together was filled with magic, it was a giant jig-saw puzzle with no rules. Little pieces at my fingertips would suddenly fit perfectly into place and it was like when you are playing memory and you turn over a matching pair on your first go! “That was lucky” I would say to myself and “Oh that fit perfectly” With the help of sweet friends, little and big, I pieced the brown paper bag completely with felt. It reminded me of a pair of silk patchwork pants my mother sewed in the nineties, and I had a pang of melancholy for my clever broken mother. The only other moment in an otherwise entirely uplifting creation was when I thought “I wish Grandma was here to help, she would find this so satisfying too.”
Then like that the mask was done, just in time for Halloween. I reveled in the small but true joy of being a creative Mummy and I found immense satisfaction for making a colourful kooky and a little bit scary costume that had to be called the “Rainbow Ghoul” who possibly would fit perfectly in Stella’s world, but if that happened my friends, then I really would be in the middle of a dream.