values

Last night, when I wasn't busy laying awake creating "to do" lists that must be completed NOW, NOW, NOW, I had a dream. I dreamt that my car had been broken into and that I returned to it while the thieves, all three of them, were sorting through their bounty. I tend to treat my car as a second home, a mini apartment of sorts, so there's a lot of stuff in there. Enough stuff that it might seem, at first, like the thieving equivalent of hitting the jackpot, but that illusion wouldn't last long. Really, boxes of work files, old clothes and crappy homemade CD's are the kinds of things that hold a lot of value for me but very little on the black market.


In my dream, I was anxious about what they were taking, I use just about everything I have squirreled away in that car, and ran over to stop them. I was most anxious about my yoga stuff which was in my laundry hamper and an old family photo album that was in a box with a bunch of old work files.

I was able to negotiate that they leave both behind asking what exactly they thought they would do with a bunch of dirty clothes and a box of paper files. They agreed, dropped the hamper and the box, and made off with the other piles of things they'd collected.

Both parties left feeling satisfied: me thinking they were total idiots for overlooking the most valuable things in the car just because they didn't look all that expensive and they thinking I was the idiot for worrying about a bunch of junk instead of all the other, more valuable, things they'd taken.

I woke up from my dream remembering that out of all of the things I had in that car that were taken from me the two that meant the most, and that I fought to keep, were yoga and my family. Interesting what comes up when the "to do" listing stops.