I read about a woman who had a dream. There was a bulb, buried in the ground, and just above it sat a rock. She awoke with a start, unsure of what it meant, but it carried a foreboding feeling.
She tentatively brought up the dream with a friend who helps find meaning in such things. Together they explored possibilities. The dreamer came to realize that the rock was being protective. Rather than let the flower break into a dangerous world it plunked squarely in the way.
This opened up a new way of seeing the imagery. The stone wasn't being cruel. Its intention was to shield the bulb, even at great cost. The woman was in a place of transition in her own life, choosing between a safe option that was restrictive, and the possibility of an entirely new path that held uncertainty and freedom.
Her parents were conservative, and had usually leaned into security above all else. This made sense for two people who had grown up during the Depression. But those constraints no longer took precedence over everything. The woman chose to leave her job.
In her imagination she pictured the rock rolling away, and two slender green leaves piercing the soil. Soon a golden daffodil broke into the air. It was free. And happier.
There have been times when I have been tempted to hold my children back. My firstborn had a job that seemed steady to me. But he wanted to find more challenge, and so he quit. I was nervous. Today he has progressed in his field to a point where he landed a double promotion, and is highly respected by his company. They are flying him to the Netherlands this month to attend a conference. He who never graduated from college.
Back in my early twenties I told my parents of an ambition to travel in Europe over the summer. They were dubious, and talked me out of it. Dad believed I was unprepared for such a brash trip. Which I probably wasn't. And yet the message has remained with me for forty years. I am still fearful of missing a flight, or not knowing the language, or losing my luggage. I stay at home.
The funny thing is my children have had all those calamities happen. More, in fact. And yet they found out that they could solve them, and still have fun.
I am happy they got the chance to bloom.
