Monday, April 8, 2013

Dreams of Young Men

This morning just before I woke up I had the most intense dream and it's still with me. In the dream I was holding a grown man in my arms - he was my son - and then I started breastfeeding him. It was deeply beautiful and I remember thinking - my god - I have a son.

I think the dream came because I was looking at a funny picture last night of a friend of mine with his mother at his high school graduation and he was so tall and gangly and manly and she looked so petite and feminine and I thought - wow - it must feel amazing to have created that - a man. She was dwarfed by man - the man that was her son. How protected she must have felt in the world. How empowered. I wondered if that was what it felt like. 

I had never ever considered that I would have a son - I always knew that one day I would have a Kiki and that would perhaps be it. I don't think a boy or a man resided in me - I just never considered it. When the ultrasound said Girl I thought - of course - I hadn't really considered any other option. If it had been a boy in there I think I would have been knocked for six. That would have required a lot of decoding and re-enregistering. Is that a word or a Franglais? It is happening more and more. 

I think I was also dreaming of grown men as I have met three of the most beautiful young men I've ever known in my life who live on the first floor and they too have an incredible petite mother over whom they tower with all their young manly grace and strength. I am a bit gobsmacked by these young men - they study and play jazz piano and have girlfriends and do 'footing' (which is the correct French way for saying 'jogging' - which nobody says - everyone just says 'jogg-eeng'). They brought Kiki a birthday present which is the Famille Tortue which is her favourite and they also brought her Easter eggs in a little bowl which a hungry lady ate most of.  

So I have been thinking of boys and men and perhaps slightly tapping into the mysterious love my mother had for my two brothers. I felt it too in some ways being so much older than them - but she was enamored. She loved us girls but the boys were the apple of her eye. Such a different relationship. She cried when Lady Diana died and I was shocked at her grief. 'Her boys', she said. Only recently I realised - her boys were the same ages as those princes. 

Now my brother is growing his own little boy inside luscious E. There is something about the idea of growing a boy that I find infathomable. To grow a girl inside a girl seems somehow normal - but to grow a penis inside of you - to compose a tiny male inside a female - that is just crazy. It's amazing it doesn't turn women slightly insane to be fabricating male body parts within all those female hormones and liquids. 

But in my dream, there was this man in my lap - all pièta - and sooo beautiful. He protected me too. I felt whole. He wasn't dying or anything - just in my arms. I think he had clothes on and everything - it was no great tragedy - just my boy baby all grown up. When I got out my boob it felt so natural. 

I wonder what it was all about.


Bill Henson 'Untitled 8'

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