RiverFork of Trill
Apr. 5th, 2025 09:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoAn assessor of truth in magic, and the cost of illusion: that was my job in a dream. There were two teams of magicians vying to run the world. I thought I was working with the "good" team--sort of like Gryffindor vs. Slytherin--but then there was an unexpected change of rules and I got traded to the other team. I was not sure that one team really was the dark side, though. It was possible that was just propaganda that I believed because I'd been told that when I was on the other team. We'd been told to prepare to welcome a "mystery guest," and a rumor was circulating that it was Gandalf. Again, I wasn't sure what to think. Of course I totally wanted to have Gandalf on my team, but what if my team was the bad one after all? It would be bad if Gandalf had been traded to the dark side. I didn't have time to work this out. The only job I actually performed while still in the dream was to use a cool steampunky device, a hand-pumped crystal and brass vessel with a hose and a nozzle. It sprayed a special fluid that put out books of lore that apparently were inclined to spontaneously self-combust due to the volatile nature of their contents. A couple of shelves of grimoires and histories had set themselves aflame, and I saved them.
Post-dream, it was a cloudy and damp morning after another night, but the air was fresh and cool. I went out for a walk, but a very slow one. My joints were screaming "Oil me!" with every step. I hope it's just the weather. I should have felt accomplished, because taking walks is a goal--but instead I was cranky because I felt that one or two walks per week is hardly good enough. I feel this brought me a moment of illumination, which I will now share with my readers. In Myers-Briggs terms, I'm an INTJ personality type. I'm sure some of you think Myers-Briggs is nonsense, and it may well be, but I've found it to be a helpful way to categorize reality. The INTJ is also known as the Architect. We're very rare, and very exigent.
I realized that when I have a goal, it's a complete vision. It's like when I imagine a meal. I need to cook All the Things to make it complete, and then it's satisfying. So when I have a vision of walking daily, the idea of picking away little bits of it and doing a step here and a step there doesn't make me go "Oh well that's a good start," or "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." No, no, it just makes me super mad that I can't do the whole thing the way I want it. I'd almost rather not do it at all than just do part of it. It's easier to put it off until some imaginary day when I can have my whole complete vision. And of course, that day never comes, so this attitude is very counterproductive. My inner child spends a lot of time with clenched fists and squinched-up eyes going "Nooooo! That's not how I want it!" Much like my little Philosopher when I would cut his toast into triangles, and he wanted it in squares, or vice versa. There was no consolation in the fact that it was nice toast with his favorite kind of peanut butter. His vision had been profaned, and he responded with cries of horror. I do so understand that.
Post-dream, it was a cloudy and damp morning after another night, but the air was fresh and cool. I went out for a walk, but a very slow one. My joints were screaming "Oil me!" with every step. I hope it's just the weather. I should have felt accomplished, because taking walks is a goal--but instead I was cranky because I felt that one or two walks per week is hardly good enough. I feel this brought me a moment of illumination, which I will now share with my readers. In Myers-Briggs terms, I'm an INTJ personality type. I'm sure some of you think Myers-Briggs is nonsense, and it may well be, but I've found it to be a helpful way to categorize reality. The INTJ is also known as the Architect. We're very rare, and very exigent.
I realized that when I have a goal, it's a complete vision. It's like when I imagine a meal. I need to cook All the Things to make it complete, and then it's satisfying. So when I have a vision of walking daily, the idea of picking away little bits of it and doing a step here and a step there doesn't make me go "Oh well that's a good start," or "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." No, no, it just makes me super mad that I can't do the whole thing the way I want it. I'd almost rather not do it at all than just do part of it. It's easier to put it off until some imaginary day when I can have my whole complete vision. And of course, that day never comes, so this attitude is very counterproductive. My inner child spends a lot of time with clenched fists and squinched-up eyes going "Nooooo! That's not how I want it!" Much like my little Philosopher when I would cut his toast into triangles, and he wanted it in squares, or vice versa. There was no consolation in the fact that it was nice toast with his favorite kind of peanut butter. His vision had been profaned, and he responded with cries of horror. I do so understand that.
