Thanksgiving lessons from my 6 year old

Cranberry sauce from a can, sliced.

Cranberry sauce from a can, sliced.

Today is the last day of the Thanksgiving can drive he said

His eyes stared up at mine questioning and hopeful, expecting

I had 6 cans of the stuff we never eat ready to go. 

Cranberry sauce, gelatinous glop, I had never liked the stuff and I never serve it.  But somehow about 6 cans of it had made its way into my cabinets.

But Cranberry sauce wasn’t enough he said.   He didn’t want to take the same thing. He wanted some different stuff, some good stuff. 

He opened the cabinet and pulled out green beans, corn and raviolis.  And inside I panicked.  But that’s our food.  That’s for us. 

Times have been really tight and with 3 kids I don’t want to give away cans of food we can eat to anonymous families.  We can use that food.  We can eat that stuff.

But he’s only 6, so he doesn’t understand the food math that Mami is quickly calculating in her brain.  And he drops them into his bag.

I swallowed my fear and let it go.

It’s thanksgiving after all.  Isn’t that what it’s all about, giving? And being thankful that you have been blessed to receive and to give?

We walked to the bus stop this morning, me carrying hot cocoa in one hand for my darling and his bag of 6 cans in my other hand.

Dark night about to be broken by day filled the sky.

Soft mist swirled about the grass on the park.

Chris looked at the sky and pointed at something he saw “what’s that white light Mami?”

“It’s a star honey.”  The only star that you could see through the smog of the city.  Cause there really aren’t stars in the night sky in Philly anymore. 

Star light star bright

First star I see tonight

I wish I may I wish I might…

There’s not much wishing on stars in Philly anymore.  Not much at all.

But this morning, we saw the one and only, the star of hope.  And I just felt blessed.

And suddenly the anonymous family became a real family in my mind.  A single mother that had less food in her cabinets then me.  And would be so happy for the cans of real food that Chris gave with such an open heart.  I could picture the mother feeling peace come into her heart as she knew her babies wouldn’t go hungry that day.

The bus came and picked up my little bundle of love.  And I walked home with prayers of thanks on my lips, that I would never want to keep my pantry overfilled at the expense of someone else.

Give us today our daily bread. 

And let me not try to store food like a squirrel, but give openly and in my giving have faith that I will receive, that God will provide, just as He provided what was on my shelves to begin with.

 

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Mami’s secret weapon for sleep!

So a couple of weeks ago I promised to take you all step by step, day by day through our struggles as we moved Carina back into her own bed in her own room and reclaimed our bed as our own.  But there actually hasn’t been much to document.  There hasn’t been much of a struggle at all.

On the first day, I decided to try using Johnson’s Baby Bedtime Bubble Bath & Wash to start off our bedtime routine.  I was hoping that the calming scent would help in relaxing her and making bedtime easier.  And to my surprise it did!  Carina splashed and played in the bubbles.  She was so excited to get into the tub because of the bubble bath.  Now that was definitely a first.  Typically transitioning into the bedtime routine was very difficult for her and she tried her hardest to stay up all night until my husband and I eventually knocked out.  But with the bubble bath, it made it much easier.  The bubbles stayed in the tub for a while, well I haven’t timed it, but long enough for her to play and tire herself out. 

Carina also tends to have sensitive skin.  Her skin will react to any harsh lotions and also switches in diapers brands in the past has caused issues as well.  So this was very much a concern for me before I used the product.  But according to Johnson’s the bubble bath was “hypo-allergenic” and had been dermatologist approved.  So for the past couple of weeks, since we’ve been using it, I’ve watched her skin closely and she’s had no reactions of any kind to the bubble bath. 

After she comes out of the tub, I massage her lotion onto her body to get her a little more relaxed and then we read my favorite bedtime story, Good Night Moon.  I tuck her in, kiss her goodnight, turn off the light and then off she goes to dream world.  And off I go to enjoy a nice quiet night with my husband.  My husband and I have both been a LOT happier since gaining our privacy back at night, and Carina is sleeping a whole lot better too!    

Making Love Work…

So, for a while now, as long as I can remember anyhow, Carina has been sleeping in the bed with my husband and I.  It started out when she was sick months ago, we brought her into bed with us in the middle of the night.  The next night the same thing happened, and then the following night she went straight to sleep in our bed.  So for months on end now, Carina has wedged a gap between my husband and I at night.  At times I wake up to find her caressing my hair, or her foot in my face, arms tangled around me and pushing me off of the bed.  Its the mornings that I love the most.  I wake up to see her little face sleeping calmly next to me, deep in a world of dreams.  Sometimes I just lay there and watch her.  She laughs and even talks sometimes.  I love that little girl to pieces, let me tell you! 

But there’s someone else that I love to pieces, my husband Kike.  I love him so much!  Even though there are times, like today, when I feel like I could strangle him.  Coming home late to a dirty kitchen will do that to you though!  But all things considered he is truly the love of my life.  He knows me like the back of his hand!  He’s the only person that knows me, how I think, how my mind works, the things I don’t like, he knows it all.  And I miss him!  He’s been working 2 jobs for over a year now and the time that we have to share together is just not what it once was.  I miss late night cuddles and waking up in his arms.  With him tangled around me, pushing me off of the bed. 

So, I’ve decided that we need to take a step and get Carina back to sleeping in her big girl bed.  The transition will definitely be a hard one as we’re just transitioning her off of the bottle as well.  But we’re both committed to it this time (I think!).  So tomorrow, we’re going to take the plunge of getting her back into her own room.  Trials and tribulations, crying jags, photos all to be posted here.  Comments and advice from those experienced with transitioning toddlers back into their own beds, and everyone else will be truly appreciated!

P.S. to all my twitter friends – gosh it feels great to release some thoughts without 140 character limits! lol

I am the unwanted…

I love quiet moments at home alone.  They give me time to clear my head.  Being laid off was probably one of the best things that has happened to me in my life, although it still hurts me.  Because I had an opinion I was chosen; I was deemed “unnecessary”.  God forbid, a woman should speak her mind.  A man doesn’t want to hear it at home and he definitely doesn’t want to hear it in the workplace either.  I mean there at least the woman is getting paid to do a job and should be so “grateful” to have one.  Even if she was doing the work of 3+ people and one man was driving her nuts.  Well, he was a vital part of the organization.  A vital part of how the organization worked and I wasn’t.

When one thinks of mistakes, one must always look back and examine the actions that made you take that misstep and made you land where you fell.  Well, guess what? I don’t take one action on my part back.  Rather, I should have said and done more. 

I stopped writing here for a while because it started to make me feel like my soul was exposed to the world to see.  But then I remembered, I started my blog to expose my soul to the world.  Not to discuss politics, not to debate issues, but to write mostly just to clear my mind.  So here it is 3 months later, after I was deemed “fat that could be cut”, and I’m still not over it. I don’t know why.

I’m not sitting at home eating OREO cookies and crying.  Not by a long shot.  I go to the gym every day and work out about 2 hours a day.  I drop my children off from school and pick them up, no more before/after care for them.  I have so much more time for my family and for me.  I’m not in last place anymore.  When I was working 50+ hour work weeks, my time was about everyone else but me.  Not anymore.  I’m putting myself first for a little while.  I’m opening my mouth.  Rediscovering my own opinion and voicing it.  I think it will open new doors for me after a while.  We’ll see won’t we?

Scrubbing the Tub

As I knelt in the bathroom today, scrubbing the tub, my roots came to mind. I’m one of those Latinas. Not the ones that were born in a Latin country, but one of the ones that were born here. My parents were born in Puerto Rico and raised in 2 worlds, there and here. I, on the other hand, was born here. Only visited the island once in my life. Our familial ties to the island having long been stretched too thin by the hands of time.

My parents were progressive. My father being the first in his family to graduate college, law school and go on to become a lawyer. My mother graduated high school and went on to work full time in Corporate America for 30+ years. My father was the primary nurturer to us and my mother cooked, sometimes when she felt like it anyhow. Other times, it was every person to themselves to find dinner. I am no stranger to cereal and eggs for dinner. That was normal, part of life. My mother washed her own clothing and at some point so long ago that I can’t remember when ceased to wash all of ours. I washed my clothing. My sister washed hers. And my dad washed his and my brother’s.

My husband is one of those Latinos. Not like me, but born on the island. He didn’t come here until he was 19 years old. He still struggles to speak English. His mother doted on him, his father, and the rest of his brothers and sisters. She never worked outside of the home as far as I know. Her days were filled with nurturing their family. Cooking, cleaning, washing, she does it all. When my husband came to the US, he had never lifted a mop, washed a dish, or his own clothing to say the least.

And somehow, my husband and I met, fell in love, and got married. If he had known how un-domestic I was, he would never have married me. He sees me “serving” him as an act of love and devotion. I see “serving” him as being demeaning to me. So we often get mired into the same vicious circle of an argument. Him questioning my love for him because I don’t want to jump up and serve him dinner. I mean for God’s sakes, I’ve been taking care of the kids all by myself all day. Could he serve himself and give me a break? And me questioning whether he appreciates the sacrifice and the commitment that being a Latina wife and mother every minute of every day entails.

I was raised to be independent and now here I am being forced into a mold that I wasn’t built for. How do you just become the quintessential Latina when you were not raised by one? No one else seems to understand how I feel belittled, how I feel less worthy when my husband comes home and I have to jump up to serve him. Then continue to clean, help the kids with homework and so on while he sits in his boxers scratching his balls on the sofa watching ESPN. And I’m supposed to be happy. How do you find happiness in that? I look at my daughter, who is only 2 and being formed now for her future, and wonder what the future holds for her. A life of servitude for her family under the guise of nurturer? A husband who pitches in and cares equally for the children and the house? And my sons, will they do the same that they see my husband doing to their wives one day?

In the mirror, I see the marionette strings tied to my back and wait for the familiar pull of my husband’s hand. For him to guide me in the direction I should be going. For me to jump up, the happy puppet that I am, to cook, to clean, to smile, to laugh, to be reigned over. A lump forms in my throat; I swallow a tear and go back to scrubbing the tub.

The 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk Philadelphia

So what can I say about the 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk in Philadelphia?  I had such high hopes and expectations for the weekend.  A journey of 60 miles.  A chance to make a difference!  To raise money to find A CURE!  I signed up for the challenge in January of this year. 

It was a walk 10 months in the planning.  Months of meetings, fundraising, planning, training, tears, loss, hope with our small team called the Pink Bees.    



I had pinned so much on the walk.  I thought that during the walk I would feel Melody there with me, her presence somehow.  After all of the planning, all of the equipment, the packing, the making plans for babysitters – the day before the walk, a Noreaster blew in and they canceled the first day of the walk, Friday.  Shortly thereafter they canceled the 2nd day of the walk, Saturday, as well.  And then we were left with one day, Sunday – just 15 miles.
 


On Sunday, we were so excited, the day had finally arrived!  Shortly after we arrived at the walk, I was briefly overcome with emotion when my team mates and I lined up at the start of the walk.  I had registered so many long months before to inspire Melody, but after she passed away in the end of May, I was now walking in her memory. And all of the months of preparation and holding off of tears, it all had culminated to that moment.  As far as we could see in front of us were a sea of pink bunny rabbit Energizer bunny ears.



The walk was difficult, after all it was cold and rainy but I know none of it compared to anything that Melody had gone through in the 8 years of the fight for her life.


It will be 5 months since she’s been gone on the 27th and it still feels like a punch in the stomach every time I remember that she is actually gone. I don’t know if I thought I would catch a glimpse of her along the way or really actually feel her but none of that happened. And I went home and felt so disappointed and my loss felt so much more real. I actually feel selfish thinking about myself, because my loss is nothing compared to her son’s, her mother’s, or her father’s. Now theirs is a loss that I don’t even want to begin to imagine. 



All in all, I was pretty uninspired by the 3 Day.  From the 2 canceled days, the disorganized chaos of the day, to the rain and the mud.  I knew it wasn’t going to be perfect and I was looking forward to it really kicking my butt.  But I think the biggest disappointment was not seeing her at the end.  And that’s something the 3 Day never could have given us.  But for some strange reason I almost expected it. 



To make up for the upset that all the Philadelphia walkers felt, we were given the option to walk in any other walk in any other city in the US through the remainder of this year.  But for me, I would then need to fork out money for travel and babysitters again and being recently unemployed, that’s not really an option for me.  We also were told that our $90 registration fee would be waived for next year if we wanted to participate again next year.  But we’ll again have to raise the $2300+ per person to walk in the walk.  So although the walk was for a wonderful cause and it felt good to be there and to have contributed to the over $8 million raised by the Breast Cancer 3 Day Walk Philadelphia, all in all it was a real let down to me.  I hope Melody is proud of me anyhow.  I know I’m definitely proud of her, probably more than ever now.  And I still miss and love her so much.  I’ll have to find other ways to honor her memory going forward. 

Breast Cancer Awareness Month – should Young Latinas be concerned?

Where do I start!? It has been SO long since I have blogged. Too long honestly. If you are a writer, truly a writer, you need to write. Just as much as you need to eat and breathe. My writing is how I think. It’s how I feel things. How I know how to respond, or what to do next (yes I love lists too). But now here I am. It’s so good to be back. So I have a couple of pieces that I’ve been working on at home, for the past few weeks. And those I will post soon once they are complete. But now, this is just strictly a piece from the heart. To clear the cobwebs in my mind so to speak. I could just cry right now I feel so free.

There has been so much that has happened in my life over the past year. So much. I fasted for 40 days during Lent. Abstained from food completely during the day. And I made it through! I decided to inspire one of my dearest friends who was battling advanced breast cancer by signing up for the 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk that is happening October 16, 17, and 18th in Philadelphia, PA. I signed up for it in January, began fundraising in February, and in May my friend, Melody Charen, she died. She was only 32 years old. She had been diagnosed with Advanced Breast Cancer at the young age of 25.  She didn’t fit the profile of a woman with Breast Cancer, after all she was young and Latina, she had a young son at the time.  But what’s in a profile anyhow?  Can one hold up the “profile” for someone with Breast Cancer as a “Get out of Jail Free” pass when one is diagnosed? No.
Today, after almost 8 years of fighting for her life to the last moments, after all of her struggles, Melody finally is at peace. When I signed up for the 3 Day, I did it to inspire her. I needed to do something. Because I saw how much she was going through I needed to do something. Melody was always the kind of person that never let you know how bad it really was. She always saw the silver lining in the clouds of gloom that were ahead. She took one day at a time and appreciated each day for what it was.

Melody and I had been friends since grade school, all through high school, but when she got sick we started talking a lot less. She distanced herself because she didn’t want people to pity her. She never wanted anyone’s sympathy. She wanted to be seen as normal above all.

I went to her son’s 9th birthday celebration the summer of 2007. I was pregnant then and it’s funny because I still remember this as if it were yesterday. And anyone who knows me knows that if I don’t write something down, write about it, my memories float away like dried up fall leaves on a strong autum wind.  I remember talking to her about the pregnancy and telling her that I was so worried because I didn’t have someone to watch the baby for me when I went back to work. I remember Melody sitting and watching and listening to me as I talked and after a minute, she suggested her own mother. I would never have thought of her, but afterwards her mother and I talked and everything just fell into place.

So when I went back to work her mother did watch Carina, my baby, for me. It was so great. I thought having the baby there was such a positive infusion for them in their lives at a time that was so difficult. I thought that the love that they felt for my daughter would somehow help Melody and her family. At the time, Melody was actively fighting the cancer that had returned to other parts of her body. But never once did she complain. Never once did she say, “why me?” The past couple of years, we became so much closer. Melody became Carina’s “Titi” (Spanish for Auntie) and Melody’s mother, Elsie became “Mom-Mom”. And we became more than friends, we became family, through this bond of love that we all shared for my daughter.  And love her they did.  They all doted on Carina as the newest member of the family.  Carina would at times confuse me and Elsie and call her “Mom” and me “Mom” as well.  But I was never jealous, I always felt blessed that my daughter had so many people in her life that loved her so much. 

After Melody passed, I was deeply shaken.  Although all of the signs were there and I was preparing myself for it, her death shook me to the core.  The 3 Day gave me something positive to turn and focus my energy on.  And now as the time gets closer for the walk, it’s about a week away now, I know she’s going to be with me every step along the way. I know she’s going to walk those 60 miles with me. And I’m not going to give up. I’m not going to quit, because even though she’s not here with us anymore. I still want to inspire her. I miss her so much to this day.

So I’ve taken that love for her and turned it into an advocacy of sorts for Breast Cancer Prevention. I want everyone to know that you don’t have to be older to get breast cancer. And young Latinas, we get breast cancer too. So take a moment, do your own self breast exams and if you feel something wrong, get to the doctor. If he tells you it is nothing, go to another doctor. But don’t stop until you are satisfied that everything is really okay.

So over the next 1 ½ weeks, I’ll continue to prepare for the walk. Sleeping bags, rain gear, you name it, I have to think about it and probably pack it. And for a city girl like me, who’s never been camping a night in her life, this is no small task. But I’m going to do it. I’m not going to complain once and I’m never going to ask “why me?”. Melody never did, why should I?  I’m just going to thank God that I can do the walk and keep on walking until the 60 miles are done and I’ll listen to see if i hear Melody cheering for us.

What Really Happened Last Night in my room…

So I had a weird dream again last night. I almost hesitate to write about this one because of the recurring theme. Unfortunately, I can’t remember as much as I did the last time, with my last dream that I wrote of here. I just remember being shocked by it when I awoke and quickly replaying it in my mind. That usually helps the dream stick some in my mind.

So it was a long dream, and I only remember these bits and pieces. I just remember running away and it was my husband that was chasing me. He wanted to kill me. I remember running in some big huge ditch over dirt and mud. I jumped in an SUV, I think it was his car and I was driving away, but he climbed in through the back window. I remember trying to get away. Then the next thing I remember we were in some sort of a room. And this was it. I had a gun and someone next to me handed me bullets and told me to load it and shoot him. I had never done it before, and they offered to help, but I for some strange reason wanted to do it on my own, I wanted to learn now. So I started pushing the bullets in, but it was really a roll of quarters. But I kept pushing them in anyhow. I tried to shoot the gun, but it didn’t go off. I had loaded it incorrectly somehow. Then I looked at my husband. He was sitting behind a desk. He opened the zipper of his pants and pulled out an oozie from his pants. And he shot me twice in the stomach. I didn’t feel pain. But I knew I was shot. And that’s all I can remember. Kind of weird though that he pulled the shot gun from his pants.

So I went to my online dream dictionary and pulled up all of the references that I relate to my dream and have included them here. Why do I keep having these dreams with this theme of me, my husband and death? This is starting to bother me.

Killer
To see a killer commit murder in your dream, foretells sadness caused by the misdeeds of others. To dream that you are killed or being chased by a killer, foretells that enemies are working against you.

Murder
If you dream of witnessing a murder in your dream, it forewarns that someone will do something that upsets or saddens you. Dreaming that you are murdered by someone means you have rivals who are secretly conspiring against you. Also see “Murderer”, below

Murderer
To see a murderer kill someone in your dream foretells sadness caused by the misdeeds of others. To dream that you are killed or being pursued by a murderer, foretells that enemies are working against you.

Self-Defense
If you defended yourself in your dream, you should avoid forcing any important issues for the time being, as someone you count on for support could suddenly fail you. Also see “Martial Arts”

Shot
If you dream of shooting someone with a gun, your reputation is going to suffer in some way. If you get shot, you will be annoyed by a nasty person. If you hear the sound of shooting in your dream, this means that selfishness will be the cause of unhappiness between you and someone you love. Also see “Gun”.

Gun
To dream about a gun may mean you feel pressured by a male person in your life. It can also represent anxiety and the need for protection. Also see “Shot”.

Chase / Chasing
Being chased in a dream means you are avoiding facing a threatening situation in real life.

Relatives
If you dream of a family member trying to hurt or kill you, this reflects your anxiety over your real-life relationship with this person. They may have been behaving in an embarrassing or emotionally hurtful way toward you. Also see “Family.”

Family
If you dream about your family, it may be a way for your mind to express feelings and concerns about your real faimly that you could not express in daily life. Some believe that this dream usually has nothing to do with your actual family members, but rather the male and female sides of your own personality or self. So in a dream, your father may represent your expressive and protective aspects, while your mother could stand for your receptive and nurturing side. If family members behave very differently in a dream than they do in real life, or if unexpected things happen when you are with your dream family, the dream is probably a way of releasing your anxiety about real-life family issues. For instance, if you dream of a family member trying to hurt or kill you, it reflects a real-life concern about this person. They are acting in a way that hurts you, or threatens your emotional happiness.

Running
Running in a dream suggests that you are feeling trapped or pressured in a real life relationship. It can also mean you feel stressed by school or work. Also see the “Running” explanations below, and also see “Track.”

Quarter
If you dreamed of quarters (the coin), you will receive unexpected gains but they will come with responsibility. Make sure you act in accordance with your inner values!

When Tomorrow Starts Without me…

When tomorrow starts without me,
and I’m not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me:

I wish you wouldn’t cry
The way you did today,
While thinking of the many things,
We didn’t get to say.

I know how much you love me,
As much as I love you,
And each time that you think of me,
I know you’ll miss me too:

But when tomorrow starts without me,
Please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name,
And took me by the hand.

And said my place was ready,
In heaven far above,
And that I’d have to leave behind
All those I dearly love.

But as I turned to walk away,
A tear fell from my eye
For all my life, I’d always thought,
I didn’t want to die.

I had so much to live for,
So much left yet to do,
It seemed almost impossible,
That I was leaving you.

I thought of all the yesterdays,
The good ones and the bad,
I thought of all the love we shared,
And all the fun we had.

If I could relive yesterday,
Just even for a while,
I’d say good-bye and kiss you
And maybe see you smile.

But then I fully realized,
That this could never be,
For emptiness and memories,
Would take the place of me.

And when I thought of worldly things,
I might miss come tomorrow,
I thought of you, and when I did,
My heart was filled with sorrow.

But when I walked through heaven’s gates,
I felt so much at home.
When God looked down and smiled at me,
From His great golden throne,

He said, “This is eternity.
And all I’ve promised you.
Today your life on earth is past,
But here life starts anew.

I promise no tomorrow,
But today will always last,
And since each day’s the same way
There’s no longing for the past.

You have been so faithful,
So trusting and so true.
Though there were times
You did some things

You knew you shouldn’t do.
But you have been forgiven
And now at last you’re free.
So won’t you come and take my hand
And share my life with me?”

So when tomorrow starts without me,
Don’t think we’re far apart,
For every time you think of me,
I’m right here, in your heart.

Author Unknown_______________________________

I found this poem on line today and it touched me. I thought I would share it with you all. It is especially fitting today. Today is Veterans Day and it brings me memories of my uncle who passed away this year, he was a Veteran. I thought I would share it with you all in case any one has experienced any recent losses of a loved one, or may be losing one slowly, like we lost my uncle.

Last Night I Drowned in my Sleep…

I had a dream last night that I was picnicking at a park with my family. We were sitting on an embankment of a lake. My husband had taken the kids canoeing. The lake was surrounded by trees. And the water in the lake, was murky and brown, as if it were muddy. My husband came out of the canoe, but I think he left something in the canoe that I wanted to reach over and pull out. So I walked to the edge and reached over and somehow I fell in. All of a sudden I was surrounded by the water. And it was so murky, I could feel myself falling. I could hear my aunt screaming that I had fallen in telling my husband to save me, but he didn’t come. I looked around to save myself. I had to find the light and swim in the direction of the light, but the light was below me and I was confused. I was suspended. I wasn’t sure if I was upside down or not. I was surprisingly calm especially when I realized that I could breathe shallowly in the water. But it came to me then that I was going to die. And I relaxed and let myself go.

The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes and I was still breathing shallowly, I had awoken from the dream in the bed in my room at my mother’s house. It was my old bed and it was positioned where it was probably about 15 years ago when I was living there. And I realized I was okay. So I got up and left and went to visit an old friend. While I was at her house, I had set up my art collection on a series of shelves. It’s a collection that I don’t even own, but I did in my dream and I was proud of it. But my friend was disgusted by it. She felt it was pornography of some sort and didn’t want to see it. I remember being surprised, and embarrassed, so I gathered all of it together to put away. I don’t remember what was in the collection, except for one doll head. The kind that stands up on the table and you can brush their hair. Later, I woke up and remembered the dream and thought how odd it was that I accepted death in my dream, only to wake up from the dream (in my dream and realize it was a dream) and continue dreaming. So weird. Anyhow, I looked up certain things from the dream dictionary and put them here, the ones that were petinent to my dream. It’s crazy, but I think all the answers are here in what I found in the dream dictionary. What do you think this means?

Canoe
To see or sit in a canoe in your dream represents serenity, simplicity and independence. It is also a reflection of your emotional balance. You are moving ahead thanks to your own power and determination.


Drowning
Drowning in a dream signifies you can no longer hide your feelings about a certain situation. These dreams usually occur when the dreamer is feeling overwhelmed in real life.

Death
Dreams about death are not necessarily bad omens, but they usually represent anxious or angry feelings. To dream of your own death is actually positive – it means renewal and letting go of an old stage of life. This is also a common dream when you are getting over an illness – and it’s a good sign that you are getting better. However, if you dream that you are dying slowly, you need to drastically change your routine and reenergize your life.

Water
Water is the universal symbol for emotions. How water looks and behaves in a dream is very significant. Here are some meanings for different water dreams: Rising water indicates rising emotions. Turbulent, choppy waters, in which a dreamer fears being swamped or drowning, symbolizes that you are being overwhelmed emotionally. Cloudy water suggests lack of emotional clarity. If you dream that you are able to breathe underwater, you are open to unconscious feelings and psychic awarenesses.

Lake
To see a lake in your dream signifies your emotional state of mind. If the lake is clear and calm, it symbolizes your inner peace. If the lake is disturbed and wavy, then you may be going through some emotional turmoil.

Trees
Lush green trees in your dreams symbolize new hopes, growth and desires.

Rescue
Being rescued from danger in a dream means you may need to end an unhealthy relationship or situation in your life

Waking Up
If you dream of waking up while still dreaming, you have a creative nature and are open to new ideas.

Doll
Dreaming of a doll means someone is being dishonest with you in real life.

Doll House
To see or play with a dollhouse in your dream symbolizes your idealistic notions about family life. Alternatively, the dollhouse in your dream may mean that your mind is trying to solve and work out waking problems with family members as you sleep

Pornography
Often, this dream is also symbolic of your fear about exposing some aspect of yourself. For all dreams involving pornography: if your dream was upsetting or unpleasant in any way, it signifies that you need to feel more in control of your own sexuality and romantic life. Don’t let yourself be pressured by any person or by society.

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