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Steel Trap
Nov. 10th, 2013 10:14 pmI don't often remember my dreams, and the few I do remember are usually lucid dreams. I don't put a lot of faith in the symbolism or meanings presented in a dream; I think, for the most part, dreams are just leftover energy from waking hours. There was some research, recently, that indicates that during sleep the brain physically flushes waste products, and that may be a biochemical explanation for dreams. Heck, I don't know.
A few weeks ago, I had one that's stuck with me. It wasn't lucid, and it wasn't a conventional nightmare, but it rattled me a little bit, and I can't get away from thinking that there was a lesson in here for me. A reminder that sometimes, the best way out is through.
The dream itself? Well, since you asked. I was on the return leg of a road trip, traveling through a sort of generic American Southwest. The road numbers were all wrong, but I can chalk that up to dream reality. As the dream progressed, I kept detouring, taking smaller and smaller roads, and eventually coming to some kind of museum or monument or something that included a restored mine. I went into the mine, exploring and going deeper and deeper, and the chambers and bores got smaller and smaller until I reached the bottom, and couldn't move around enough to get to the ladder leading back to the surface. I tried and tried, but just could not twist around the part of the ladder that extended into the middle of the last chamber. Finally, I broke the bottom of the ladder, which gave me enough room to move and reach up to the rest of the ladder and get out of the mine.
Sometimes, the best way out is through.
I put this in the back of my mind, and it started working out its own solution, combining with the geometrically-worsening situation at the awful day job. Yesterday, the rough draft sprang out at me - just bite the bullet, incur the debt, and borrow enough to cover all expenses for six months. No job, no work except school, spend December learning how to be a student again, and the spring finding out for certain that, 1) this is truly what I want to do, and, 2) I can still do it. My self-confidence, which has always varied wildly in quantity and quality, has very nearly evaporated, and that has left me paralyzed and terrified.
A little more rational now, I'm refining the plan. Still going to be costly, but it's attainable. I've found a better path to the wanted MPH than a straight BSci in biology - UK offers a BSci program through its College of Health Sciences that looks to lead directly into the graduate programs I have my sights set on, and it's a pretty fast track. Before bedtime tonight, I'm submitting some very late FAFSA information and getting other documentation together for money from other sources. Much to do. Much to accomplish.
A few weeks ago, I had one that's stuck with me. It wasn't lucid, and it wasn't a conventional nightmare, but it rattled me a little bit, and I can't get away from thinking that there was a lesson in here for me. A reminder that sometimes, the best way out is through.
The dream itself? Well, since you asked. I was on the return leg of a road trip, traveling through a sort of generic American Southwest. The road numbers were all wrong, but I can chalk that up to dream reality. As the dream progressed, I kept detouring, taking smaller and smaller roads, and eventually coming to some kind of museum or monument or something that included a restored mine. I went into the mine, exploring and going deeper and deeper, and the chambers and bores got smaller and smaller until I reached the bottom, and couldn't move around enough to get to the ladder leading back to the surface. I tried and tried, but just could not twist around the part of the ladder that extended into the middle of the last chamber. Finally, I broke the bottom of the ladder, which gave me enough room to move and reach up to the rest of the ladder and get out of the mine.
Sometimes, the best way out is through.
I put this in the back of my mind, and it started working out its own solution, combining with the geometrically-worsening situation at the awful day job. Yesterday, the rough draft sprang out at me - just bite the bullet, incur the debt, and borrow enough to cover all expenses for six months. No job, no work except school, spend December learning how to be a student again, and the spring finding out for certain that, 1) this is truly what I want to do, and, 2) I can still do it. My self-confidence, which has always varied wildly in quantity and quality, has very nearly evaporated, and that has left me paralyzed and terrified.
A little more rational now, I'm refining the plan. Still going to be costly, but it's attainable. I've found a better path to the wanted MPH than a straight BSci in biology - UK offers a BSci program through its College of Health Sciences that looks to lead directly into the graduate programs I have my sights set on, and it's a pretty fast track. Before bedtime tonight, I'm submitting some very late FAFSA information and getting other documentation together for money from other sources. Much to do. Much to accomplish.
