I had a fall. (I fell off the kitchen bench)! I don’t call it an accident because, as I keep saying, I don’t believe in accidents. Re-living the incident later, I had missed my footing. And because of a moment of indecision at a crossroads between choices. Jarred spine. Wrenched muscles. Blood everywhere. Bruised. But I’d landed on my feet.
I’d missed my footing. At a crossroads. Landed on my feet. I had a vivid dream that night. I was lying on a bed. In hospital. A nurse came to me. She held up a sheet of paper to my face. They were blood test results. “No-one should die alone, ” she said to me. “I’m going to die?” I asked, surprised. She made no reply, lay down next to me, though on the bottom half of my bed. She was keeping vigil with me. Not unnaturally, I found this dream disturbing.
On closer inspection, the nurse was an actress who played a midwife in a current TV drama series. A midwife. That put a less negative complexion on the dream. It was about death, yes, but also – and predominantly – about birth. The nurse was keeping vigil with me out of compassion while I endured the painful process of the ending of an important life cycle but predominantly – because of her nursing specialism – for the birth of another.
Going deeper into the dream, I saw that I was wearing a long-sleeved, ankle-length, salmon-pink nightgown. I scanned my psyche but couldn’t recall ever having possessed a salmon-pink nightie. Any salmon-pink garment, in fact. In fact, I don’t particularly like pink. There’s something fishy going on here, I thought.
And as this tale – or even tail – is getting long and I have other fish to fry today, check back for Part Two of An Auspicious Accident.
The image is a close-up of a section of the distressed hull of our Albin Vega – the boat we are doing up. I identify, as my fall resulted in a similarly distressed hull!
Ann
Related articles
- The Dream Journal (thegreatjohn.wordpress.com)
- Tv Ramblings 09 – Call the Midwife (swytla.wordpress.com)
Poetic Mapping: Walking Into Art 
Jeez, I thought I was the only one that takes incidents like that seriously. When dreaming of death, it usually means a rebirth or a new beginning and so on, so there you’re spot on. I’m just today beginning to recover from another kind of ‘accident’ altogether. Now learning to trust my intuition better.
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Learning to trust one’s intuition is really hard! I hope you write about this ‘accident’. Ann
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Perhaps. Still too angry with the other party involved, not to mention with myself.
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Well, I wish swift healing. I read this the other day (or something similar: ‘A liar’s biggest weapon is the trust of the innocent’. So don’t beat yourself up. I choose innocence, even if it means I’m often a fool! Ann
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The I Ching says innocence is our higher inner selves. So I’ll go with that. Interesting all of this.
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That’s very interesting, I didn’t know that (I Ching).
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Explore it if you like. It’s just that my own inner truth, or intuition or knowing has gone haywire for a while now so I use it sometimes. It keeps telling me to trust myself!
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Still can’t find your blog.
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I went into admin yesterday, added a link to my gravatar or profile pic which should help, if clicking on petrujviljoen doesn’t help. Don’t know what else to do. the actual address is http://pviljoen.wordpress.com
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Your link works. So glad to see your artworks. I like them. I like the one with the ears with the black plastic between. I feel just like that sometimes. Will comment on your take on the photo prompt in due course.
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Glad to chat!
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Amazing.
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🙂
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Thank you for sharing your experience here and thanks for the trackback. If I remember correctly, pink is very soothing and is used sometimes on walls of rooms to help keep tensions down. I think your dream was meant to be reassuring. I sure found it interesting and I am also grateful for your kindness in using one of my posts as a related article on your own wonderful blog. Thank you ever so much and may every day be filled with all happiness and prosperity for you.
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There’s more to come! Thanks very much for your VERY kind remarks. And I would like to confirm that, like yours, my dung stinks. (Anyone else reading this, please check out John’s blog for illumination).
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