Flying in my dreams has become an addictive and exhilarating experience. I’d like to think I’ve got it down pretty well. Diving, swooping, jumping over buildings and coming dangerously close to the ground is my forte. I wouldn’t mind staying in this fantasy; swooping around, diving into oceans then bursting into the sky. But lately I’ve been trapped in a cage feeling so upset and depressed to know that the rest of my life would be spent unnecessarily crippled. But something changed.
Three weeks after being helplessly trapped, I was flying over stunning placid water. I was free again. But how? What changed? Apparently, dreaming that you are flying signifies a sense of freedom where you had initially felt restricted or limited.1 I did get a weekly planner. Now I obsessively check my schedule to ensure I stay focused. But now I don’t really need to focus. Everything is organized so I no longer have to think about what I need to do. My days are methodically programmed and structured. Immediately after I write something down I’m free to forget about it. The planner will tell me to remember so I don’t have to. So, I guess I am free in a way. My planner does it all for me. It guides me when I have a free moment. It tells me it’s okay to stop reading when my mind begins to haze over. “Don’t forget to buy Mom’s birthday card,” “Meet friends at 8pm,” or “Go to the gym.” It takes just a moment to plan the next three months and then I can be on auto-pilot. But really… did I make myself a new cage by buying a planner? Am i really that free? Will this realization put me back in my cage? Oh please, no. I really enjoyed flying again.