Boundaries with Hair

I had a dream. Since it was the second time in as many weeks that I had this same dream, I found it disturbing enough for me to Google dream interpretation to try to understand what it meant.

In the dream, I had my childhood very long hair hanging over my face yet I was bald on the top of my head - ghastly white bald. I was leaning over so others could see this strange occurrence.

So, here's what the interpreter site said:

"To dream of hair covering your face suggests an emotional anxiety in the company of others and particularly in intimate relationships. Looking out from behind a veil of hair in a dream shows that you may be keeping your true feelings hidden as you have a deep fear of rejection in close relationships."

Well, that pretty much nails it.

Since my brother's death nearly seven months ago, I lost my 'rock' - the intensely close relationship that grounded me. And in my brain-addled opinion, by taking his life, he ultimately rejected me. At least this is how I have been feeling about it all and it is spilling over into my intimate relationships with my husband and close friends.

It further explains:

"To dream of hair falling out indicates extreme fears may be running unchecked in your emotional body. There is a strong message here to examine your inner world before stress manifests itself from uneasiness. If the loss of hair in a dream is random and in clumps, a fear of death is lurking and needs to be addressed so as to improve your general demeanor."

Fear of death? Absolutely, but not mine. I am scared that other loved ones will start falling away; abandon me. Ah, the crux of my whole childhood, my book, and my life - abandonment.

At the same time during this experimental healing time I've had to revisit certain boundaries in relationships. Are these real relationships where I actually receive something rather than just giving away too much of me? Am I 'rescuing' people because it makes me feel good? Where do I begin and end in each of my close relationships?

Perhaps the fear- and anxiety-invoking hair also represents my need to establish some healthful boundaries that, according to one anonymous Facebook post, "are like Energy Doors that help us manage the flow of energy in our life. At times it's useful to keep the door open in order to invite in and receive the blessings from others and our environment. At other times, we need to keep the door shut for our own sense of security, nourishment and well-being."

Well, yes again.

I get it. I've been so busy these past months with grief, the business affairs of my brother including being the spokesperson for newspaper and magazine writers, planning and managing upcoming memorial art exhibitions, promotion of my own DYING TO LIVE, the Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) training, and visiting my doctors, that I've unknowingly created boundaries. Sure, I can say they've been erected due to lack of time, but I believe they are also sorely needed to help me heal. I may have offended some but I know those that are true to me will understand my fakakta process. By isolating myself and focusing on my grief process, my physical health, and my work, I've set up some walls while I fumble around and try to rebuild my inner core, my Statue, as described in my memoir.

I peek over the walls every now and then and I've even walked out around the barriers from time to time in ways both big and small, like fumbling around in storage units organizing nearly a thousand pieces of my brother's art or saying 'yes' to a book signing event. But I've set some boundaries, and as hackneyed as it may sound, it's normal. Phew!

Now if I can just have a good hair day! 

Artist: Alice Mason.

  

#Boundaries #TheSoulfulWoman