Tearing All My Teeth

I don’t inherently believe in dream theory. It seems to touch that same area of tarot and astrology that interests me, and I’d like it to be real. But it still feels like the chaos of the universe is too much for it to be real. I kinda want a little magic like that to be real, though. To have meaning.

And yes, I know dreams and tarot aren’t the same. We can move forward.

Anyway, so last night I was pulling out my teeth.

But it wasn’t a typical teeth dream. Let’s just walk it through.

So I get tonsil stones. And for some reason, I was in a co-ed group shower and looking in a mirror. A very normal thing. And when I opened my mouth, I saw tonsil stones next to my lower row of teeth. That does not make sense because that’s not where tonsils are, but let’s roll with it. So I was pulling out the jaw tonsil stones, and I got out some, but the more I kept pulling out, the larger the ones below seemed to be. By the fifth or so time I opened my mouth, the spots where there used to be tonsil stones were now full-grown teeth, all wobbly and weird. But when I pulled those too many teeth, I was struggling to pick the extra teeth and the teeth that were supposed to be there. All of them started getting wiggly.

Now, if dream theory is real, I’d say I’m in a place to streamline my life and focus on what’s important. But as I try to streamline, I realize there’s a lot going on and its harder than I thought to organize all my things going on.

What’s funny is that I don’t think the answer is to take out more teeth. I think the fact I might’ve visualized my overwhelming feelings as teeth is part of the problem. I feel like I have to keep pulling and adjusting these boulders and milestones and goals, like I need to have these cairns perfectly stacked equally in order.

But my priorities and obligations aren’t teeth or stones or cairns. It’s like a river. And I need to go with its flow, not constantly try to landscape it to make it go the “proper” way and perfect that every route of water is equal and right.

Being a wife and a writer and a social media manager and a baker and a homeowner and a dog parent and a friend… it’s all meshed up in there. They aren’t different piles I have to stack and feed. They’re all me, and the more I treat them separate and try to work with them separately, the more I’ll stress myself out.

I don’t have to find a way to make the rock or teeth work. They already all come from the same cliff face; the same mouth.

They need to flow. I need to flow.

I need to breathe and just fucking float.

There’s no need to pull my teeth out.