In college, I return to my dorm room, only to find my backpack missing. An FBI investigation shows the crime has been committed by some men from Wadiya, 'The Dictator's country. I am at a loss and in a state of panic. What to do without my identity papers, my glasses, my money?
I greatly respect the wisdom of dreams. In this case, it was not hard putting together the story in the dream and the inner climate I found during sitting this morning. Body in a state of assault, mind scattered, heart shut off, anxiety, just like in the dream . . . A general feeling of disconnection, and of being lost. Thoughts racing about the many projects awaiting, the itch to leave my seat and get busy, and much stress from violence done to myself. Meeting the dictator within, the tyranny of extreme busy-ness that was robbing me from the ability to see clearly and to be myself.
Making daily call to my mother earlier, I played the part of dutiful daughter but I could tell I was not being fully present for her. Mind was elsewhere already thinking ahead, and messed up heart had other interests. A lot went on during those few minutes with my mother, and her usual enthusiasm at hearing me was not there. I hung up feeling empty, a fraud . . .
Today will be a time for making peace with 'The Dictator'. Noticing its effects, not giving into the compulsion to do too much, taking the time to just be, and devising a strategy for effectively doing my work without getting taken over by the driven-ness. I shall make a list, and decide on priorities, and take on one thing at a time, without rushing. Work as meditation, engaged in state of concentration.
Do you ever encounter 'The Dictator'? How do you know? How do you respond?