The Irrepressible Power of Dreams

Why I thought that decorative pillows would have one iota of impact on my happiness, I will never know. It's true, I felt a rush of excitement laying down the new area rug and carefully draping the chenille throw. But the next day, it was like a terribly homely woman wearing bright red lipstick. Not. Gonna. Cut it. Not that the room is homely. It's beautiful, but you get my point.

I think I expected to feel as good as that room looked.

I've never understood the concept of retail therapy or the deep consumerist drive some people have. But, I think I get it now. They are really, honestly trying to make their lives better in a tragically misguided way. I have much greater empathy for shopaholics and those people who order the porcelain dolls off the Shopping Channel at three in the morning.

Sad business, that.

Also sad business that I woke up today, the day before my birthday, feeling off-the-charts miserable. Again. Still. My birthday is my favourite day of the entire year, and not in some 'I get to be the centre of attention' way. In the way that it is and always has been my own personal New Year. It's like an inner reset, a fresh start, what have you.

Only, the past couple of years haven't felt the same. Two years ago I turned 30, and all I cared about on July 13 was whether I was going to survive a 200 km bike ride. I can't remember last year at all. Which is bloody depressing if you ask me. If I was 80? Okay, I forgot my birthday, who cares. I was 31.

And this year, I've been dreading my very favourite day because I haven't been this unhappy since the Bad Old Days. I don't want to start my New Year feeling like this.

This morning when the alarm went off, I ignored it. To the point Boyfriend had to crawl over me to turn it off. I went back to sleep. Not because I was tired, but because I didn't want to be awake. This has been happening more frequently these days. I just don't want to be awake, dealing with life.

Of course I've considered the idea that I'm depressed.

But if I am, it's not chemically driven. It's circumstantial. Sure it's possible that has caused my seratonin to head south for the summer. But it doesn't feel right to medicate myself so my shitty life feels tolerable.

When I finally got out of bed, I walked to the bathroom mirror. I looked myself in the eyes and said, "What's going on? What do you need?" I sat down on the edge of the tub and started to cry. I begged myself for clarity. Then everything got quiet. I expected to hear something like, "Leave Boyfriend and get a condo in the city" in some booming God Voice. But there was nothing. I wiped my eyes with my t-shirt, leaving globs of yesterday's mascara.

At a loss, I got dressed and left for a walk. I've learned over the past two months that it's the best thing to do when Toxic Misery sets in. Otherwise the misery festers and transforms into Passive Aggression and Irrational Bitchiness, which doesn't improve matters much.

So, I walked. I listened to my incredibly embarrassing positive thinking meditation tape. It's from 1989 or so and is narrated by someone named Bob Griswald. He has a funny Midwestern accent and I can hear him swallowing in the background between telling me I am calm and secure. But, he does calm me down. And that's something.

Not five minutes into Bob's soothing narrative, my intuition spoke up. With its characteristic simplicity, my gut had only three words for me. Just. Go. Back.

To Paris.

Go back. Do it again. Do it some more. Don't drop the momentum you had there – writing prolifically, meeting incredible people, connecting with the divine, believing unequivocally that the whole world was at your fingertips. Just. Go. Back.

It seems so simple. Too simple. But that's how it always is. The Universe doesn't give you complex formulae to puzzle through and decode. It gives you simple, indisputable instructions that you probably could have come up with yourself if you hadn't been so busy resisting the obvious and crying in your bathroom.

Of course there are a million details to sort out. But I'm not terribly concerned with that right now. Because I just got the best birthday gift of my life. Hope.