photo courtesy of active.com
We’ve been eavesdropping on a friend I’m naming Regina, and her husband Abraham. During a dinner together, Regina described the three principal arenas of her life—work, marriage and avocation—and was struck by their similarities. She has recently become involvement is in a yoga class, and its atmosphere seems like a carbon copy of her marriage and work. Namely, she describes them all as overly serious, excessively focused, and lacking in joyful play.
In the first of this series of posts, Regina mentioned being startled to discover that her yoga teacher, like her husband, is partially colorblind. Although she pointed this out during a dinner party and I wasn’t going to turn it into a dream interpretation session, that one symbol impressed me enough that I thought it worth pursuing: “Regina, tell me about being color blind.” She had to ponder a moment. Then:
Actually, if you think about it, it’s not really a serious problem—at least not most of the time. But it does restrict the way you see life. There are subtle variations that you miss—and some delightfulness, too. There’s a kind of richness that comes with color perception and all its variety. I mean, think what it would be like if you couldn’t see the yellow spectrum. A monarch butterfly would look grey. How sad! So I guess color can bring a sense of enthusiasm and joyfulness.
There was that word “joyfulness” again. Regina stated that a sense of joy was missing in every facet of her life. And here, in this one symbol, was a possible key to what Regina might need to do to bring more joy into her world. In her own words, “It does restrict the way you see life. There are subtle variations that you miss…”
I wanted to know what the “colorblindness” was in Regina’s life that was causing her to look at her world in a “restricted,” joyless manner. She needed no prompting to provide an answer.
It’s really amazing how autobiographical all this is. I know that’s the principle you teach in your dream work. But when you see it actually acted out in your own life, it definitely gets your attention. So, yes, like everyone I have mentioned in all of these descriptions, I tend to approach life seriously. I always have. As a kid, I was the one who was forever keeping the family from falling apart. I was the one who had to stay at attention and “fix” whatever was broken in the family dynamics to keep my life and the lives of my family members from disintegrating.
I watched that disintegration start to happen a couple of times when I was pretty young, and it upset me so much I vowed to myself I wouldn’t let it happen again. I guess, as a result, I don’t let my guard down very often. Even today, as an adult, I feel like I have to kind of be on guard. It’s ridiculous, especially married to Abraham. If anyone in life is there to take care of me, it’s him. But I still don’t let up.
What can Regina do to bring change? We’ll explore that tomorrow.
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