Soul Mosaic

Before proceeding to the next phase of life, I need to record a momentary aside, an “experimental observation” of sorts.

In the first section of this book, I described this writing journey as a sort of “scientific experiment approach.” First, I would review the past, make observations, and note any insights that came up along the way. Then, in the last two sections of the book, I would explore for meaning, draw some conclusions, and add my thoughts for the future.

As part of that first section, “starting point,” I made a couple of “Baseline” data point observations, one of them about a nightmare.

I am going to discuss the topic of nightmares in more detail in the analysis section of the book, Journey to the Underworld. There, as I share my path through some intense therapy after my mother’s death, I will also share the insights it provided. For now, suffice it to say that during that therapy, I had a lot of nightmares. Frequent and intense. They started with reliving the abuse, but over time…and healing, evolved from despair, to trapped rage, to self-empowerment.

It goes without saying that if all the intense digging into my emotions stirred up those nightmares, then the process of reliving my past as I write this book might certainly do the same. And it has.

Of late, I’ve had more “busy dreams” than outright nightmares. Dreams of being on the move. Traveling. Striving to get somewhere. “In transit.” But last night’s was a nightmare. Yet, it was one of the more “quiet” ones. Very different.

Again, I will deal with the specifics later when discussing that topic. But the one observation I will make about last night is the shift in my sense of power and the diminished rage.

It was like the aftermath of a battle…walking through the silent battlefield, noting the destruction all around me. Feeling sadness, but ultimately, a sense of “inevitability,” like an awareness that something “had to be done.” And my father, who features in most all of my nightmares, was this time, in the background, retiring, almost afraid to approach. And surprisingly frail..

So for now, just the observation. I will reflect on its importance later, in the context of all the other nightmares.

Now, back to the story.

This entry was posted on October 16, 2025 at 1:30 pm and is filed under Memoir - sexual abuse trauma recovery. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.