Afternoon Free Time

[falcongrrl]

I thought that I would use this time to catch up on a little bit of sleep. Lately my dreams have been so vivid, that upon waking, I truly do not feel as if I have slept at all. No, instead I feel as if I have been living another life, one that at times feels more real than this one, this despite the fact that I know I can feel this wooden chair through the fabric of my skirts, that I may reach down and touch the soft black cloth resting against my thighs.

But in my nap I did not find solace, so I decided to write a bit upon awakening. Forgive me if this entry seems a bit disjointed. I fear there is to be no rest for me today. No rest for the weary. But surely there is rest in Our Lord the Shepherd, who cares for His lambs and even more so for His children? I know that there is; I have spent a lifetime secure in this knowledge, its certainty a soft blanket wrapped around this humble collection of flesh and bone.

But in the dream of perhaps ten minutes ago, I was sitting in a cloth chair, not a wooden one. I was wearing blue jeans. There were things in my ears, and I was listening to some kind of electronic music with what sounded a bit like African chanting. I was not wearing a shirt. I know I was female, though, because when I looked at my bare chest I could see pale breasts hanging down. There were silver and gold rings on chubby pale hands. Those hands were typing on a keyboard, on a computer exactly like this one.

I don't know what I was typing, or what it means.

I fear that I am going mad.

I just realized that yesterday the abbess was speaking to us about the need for recruiting those younger sisters who have been called. It's an odd turn of phrase, admittedly. However, some Sisters feel it will mean the end of our way of life if younger women do not continue to join our order. Furthermore, we do have something to offer them. Here one finds a freedom from the modern world - a world which often brings so much pain and isolation. Here, what perhaps appears as solitude is actually the truest form of intimacy: that of a true communion with Christ Our Lord.

Perhaps all this talk of voluntary recruitment is why I have been having such strange dreams about a younger woman whose life is so very different from my own.

If they persist, I will seek medical treatment. Sometimes women of a certain age develop strange symptoms. If I begin to feel warm for no reason, it may very well set my mind at ease.

I should go. It is almost time for my afternoon assigned work. I am to do gardening, which is somewhat of a relief given the hours spent looking at web design this morning. Yet here I am at the computer again; I suppose some of it is my own fault. But a little time outside in the fresh air should do me no small measure of good.