On New Year’s Day, I woke up thinking about a dream that I’d had the night before. I dreamt that I was back at work, and I needed to run an errand. By far the easiest way to complete the errand would be to take a car, but I don’t have a car. So somebody said, “Ah, that’s okay, take mine.” No problem. I love driving and I really miss not having my own car. I went to look for the vehicle in question and found that it was a luxe sports car. Now the make of the car itself was a little bit fuzzy. It could have been a Ferrari, or a Porsche (Those of you reading this who are interested in cars may be inwardly groaning right now. I realise that a Ferrari is nothing like a Porsche, I really do. But apparently my sub-conscious thinks they’re all a bit the same. Sorry). Either way, it was new, and fancy, and fast, and I was at the wheel.
When I began driving the car, I was in heaven. It was so smooth! I barely brushed the accelerator and I was flying, or, to quote OMC, cruising down the highway in the hot, hot sun. It was the best! I felt free. Then suddenly, I realised I was on the road, with other road users, and I should probably slow down. And maybe there were cameras or police around, so I should really keep an eye on the speedometer (Ahem. Not that that’s the only reason not to speed, of course.) And actually, this was a super nice car, which was also not mine, so I should really be more careful in general. What if I hit someone by accident? What if they hit me? What if I scraped the side of the car when I went to park it? I’ve only parallel parked about five times this year, perhaps I had forgotten how to do it? And this was an unfamiliar car too, so it would probably be more difficult.
After a short while of driving the car, I had become so cautious, it was hardly moving. At one point, I became that unsure of what I was doing, I actually looked down at my feet to make sure I was hitting the brakes, like, really hitting them, because I didn’t want to make a mistake. I had been transformed from grinning adventurer to a ball of nerves in less than five minutes.
So. Self sabotage. Apparently I know how to do it in my dreams in addition to real life! Do you ever worry about doing something well? So much so that you completely mess it up? I wish I could say that I was only guilty of doing that once or twice, but I’m pretty sure it’s more than that. This year one of the things I’m committed to doing is letting go. Not worrying so much, not trying to control everything. Allowing nature to do its thing a little bit. And hey, if I crash and burn, so be it. At least I’ll go out with a smile on my face.