The Pool of Chances

From my adolescence to my adulthood, I’ve always had very vibrant and vivid dreams. These nightly visions would range from terrifyingly disturbing to overly ridiculous epic scenes. Unfortunately, they swayed more towards the former than the latter. 

One of these epic head-movies was set in Neo-Tokyo and I had to face off against a red-haired Samurai. Eventually, this wily swordsman would get the best of me by slicing and dicing me into itty bitty bits. However, later I was reborn when a kid (an unknown actor) snaggled up my shoes and dropped them into a pool of rejuvenation.

This great healing pool looked like a children’s small round pool, but it emitted immense blue vibrant water. This puddle also consumed my shoes as payment to grant me the gift of rebirth so that I may seek vengeance.

Side bar, for some reason the pool was located midway up my grandma’s driveway. I assure you there was nothing Neo-Tokyo about Michigan.

My red-haired combatant

On the other side of these illusions, and usually the most reoccurring, revolved around the around a person, beast, or group of items (similar to scissors and/or syringes) devouring my tummy. Perspective wise, I would wake up on my back and peer down to gaze upon the nom nom style festivities into my stomach.

There were times this startled me to the point where I would starve myself from sleep. This happened on and off for many a’years. One day, this dream crept in, but unlike previous times, I was awake before the feast began. I faked sleep and scoped out room through squinted eyes.

The utensils and other creatures were getting ready to enter the buffet, chatting and laughing. Fortunately, I noticed a device that could be used as a weapon. It resembled a pair of scissors, yet it wasn’t.

The weapon from my dream

They laughed; I waited.

The assailants were about to dig in, licking their lips ready for the meal to come.

  I waited a bit longer.

They hoovered over my body, salivating. Right before they made contact, I shot up, swiped the gadget and just tore them up; slap chopped, all the way through.

When I awoke, I laughed and was immediately met with this overwhelming sense of relief. It was as if I had conquered a real-life boss, a true threat to my sanity. The craziest part of all this was the absence of those dreams. Ever since the great retribution, not one time has that dream or anything remotely reminiscent re-emerged.

In fact, there has been many other instances whereas I’ve corrected certain inequities in that dream-like plane – not the brutalization necessarily but mentally overpowering these “hauntings” or fears.  

I am not a medium, psychologist, certified dream reader, or anything that would carry scholarly merit in the overcoming of dream-based fears, or fears in general, but I can say I’ve experience what it is like to control your mind and assert the power it possesses to subdue fears. 

It is my firm belief that we all possess mental strength. Acknowledge it. Accept it. Anxiety, Fear, public speaking, cucumbisvinegarisphobia, or what have you, it is my unwavering position that you can overcome any and all of it by facing it head on. Dream, reality, it sways the needle not.

If you are intimidated or fear "X", walk right into it, you might be surprised at what you can accomplish. If you fail, sacrifice the shoe and try again.

Shoe

Surely, you can sense your own power. (But don’t call me Shirly)