What claim do my dreams have on me? What claim do any dreams—or does anything—have on me? I feel such dearth of soul.
At face value, they seem so simple, so banal—as I myself am. Guilt associated with sex since puberty, sibling rivalry, a sense of being out of control re: being gay and Christian. I don’t know how to relate what these windows show about my inner soul with anything in my external life.
Except. I was intensely nervous most of yesterday, especially when the Jesuits at Loyola suggested Steve and I go to Africa and work in their missions. A building nervousness, lunching in Thomas Hall and then meeting with LIM faculty. The old symptoms, for the old reasons: who am I in this setting, as a gay theologian?
Then I awoke today angry at Steve and have remained so all day—at his unresponsiveness, inaccessibility, slowness. Or is it anger at myself? Am I inaccessible to myself, obtuse and confused?
The soul window provided by dreams seems to show me some things that are underneath all that I feel and think and experience now. I’m not sure they’re “related” at all—it’s as if the blockage of so much in my life, of fruitful introspection, vision, forward movement, opens up vistas on energies always present inside. . . .
Could I take this story and turn it into a story re: energy, and not re: blockage and confusion?
At face value, they seem so simple, so banal—as I myself am. Guilt associated with sex since puberty, sibling rivalry, a sense of being out of control re: being gay and Christian. I don’t know how to relate what these windows show about my inner soul with anything in my external life.
Except. I was intensely nervous most of yesterday, especially when the Jesuits at Loyola suggested Steve and I go to Africa and work in their missions. A building nervousness, lunching in Thomas Hall and then meeting with LIM faculty. The old symptoms, for the old reasons: who am I in this setting, as a gay theologian?
Then I awoke today angry at Steve and have remained so all day—at his unresponsiveness, inaccessibility, slowness. Or is it anger at myself? Am I inaccessible to myself, obtuse and confused?
The soul window provided by dreams seems to show me some things that are underneath all that I feel and think and experience now. I’m not sure they’re “related” at all—it’s as if the blockage of so much in my life, of fruitful introspection, vision, forward movement, opens up vistas on energies always present inside. . . .
Could I take this story and turn it into a story re: energy, and not re: blockage and confusion?
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