Yesterday was a dark day but not of my usual sort. Pain of the exaggerated ‘don’t bother me, I’m dying’ breed began around the Sub-occipital muscles and stampeded my skull and my brain’s right hemisphere. Being the whiner I am, I wasn’t happy.
Suffering computer and writing withdrawal contributed to my low tolerance for pain. Hey, I’m STRESSED OUT! Writing on the old Thinkpad reminds me of traveling on an old coal fed steam locomotive. Lot of chug-chug-chug action to open windows, or even change words or write more than thirty characters in Word. Chug-chug-chug. I write in snapshots so I’ll have parallel scenes in development, requiring me to jump between docs. Chug-chug-chug. Looking up something on the intertubes…chug…chug… Chug. Chug chug chuuuuggg. Chuuuuugggggggggggg. The computer then paused, let out a gasp and wiped its screen, telling me, “Whoo, this is tough hauling. All up hill to get to the good data.”
So, while back at home, logging changes made and attempting more fixes, I sat back in the office chair, closed my eyes…and napped.
I dreamed during the nap. I was walking on gray asphalt. It was sunny and hot. My shadow was about fifteen degrees off true. Right was part of a bridge’s cement structure. Painted white, it was last touched up a decade or more past and its facade was worn.
All I saw was my shadow, my feet, the asphalt and the cement. Then I drew near the bridge’s end. Ahead was the gravelly dirt shoulder with heavy green weeds and brambles. I stepped off the bridge. While doing so, I looked down and saw I was stepping into a hole between the bridge and shoulder. I fell off into nothing.
Blackness rose before fear shook me awake. Telling my wife about it, she noted the bridge and it’s possible significance, and the fact that I was walking into the unknown, that I didn’t know it, and I was frightened. Yeah, but…isn’t the future unknown? So aren’t I always walking into the unknown?
So, no simple interpretation arose, but my headache was gone, and that was worth the dream by itself.
Michael Seidel, writer 
A possible interpertation of your dream could be that you are chugging away at a goal in what you believe is a steady and familiar rhythm: crossing a river using a bridge. You’re a writer so lets assume you are working on some major piece of writing like another novel. You work on your novel everyday on a set schedule and force your sometime errant mind to obey as you clack away at the keys. You’re sitting in your office in the same spot that you were last week this day and time and probably for some weeks previously. Habit is powerful and extremely useful if used properly but our minds are unconsciously searching for change even if we try to convince ourselves that we like it when things stay the same. You fall into that hole right before you reach the safety of land beyond because your brain is warning you: first through physical pain and then through dream sequence, that you will experience some major disruption to your orderly path. Whether this be with your health, your environment, family, friends or any other subject which could cause you distress I truly believe that our brains and our dreams are much more powerful than we understand or give them credit for and the possibility that our brains subconsciously understand more about ourselves and our needs than we ourselves do. I’d suggest you take a break from the routine to do something spontaneous and fun-if only as a reliever due to you being “STRESSED OUT”. Oh and I’ve nominated you for the Liebster Award for being a badass human being and blogger.
https://roderickwills.wordpress.com/2016/07/25/the-liebster-award/
LikeLike
Intriguing and insightful. I think you hit it, as an aside to myself, I said, “I need a break, a need a change to my routine,” yesterday, and sought changes, differences from what I typically, normally, usually do. Thanks for taking the time to read and provide that interpretation. Got up in ourselves and routines, sometimes someone outside of ourselves must help us see. Humbly, I appreciate the nomination, and will follow up. Cheers, M
LikeLiked by 1 person