I went to bed shortly after getting home from work today. One of those naps that blurs into the night. I had such a beautiful dream. There were three friends. They shifted forms throughout the dream--I remember them only as lizards but I think they were other things at some point as well. They were travelling together. One of them strayed on his own and found himself taken to some other kind of reality. He wanted to get back to his friends. He found himself confronted with a predator in this new reality space. He tried his best to defend himself from the predator as he was attacked. When all hope seemed lost, he reached to embrace the predator, and the predator obliged happily. The setting changed again, and he was in new company. He was faced with a series of challenges, each with new company, wherein he was to come closer to his company despite the threat or inconvenience that they seemed to have to him. In each scenario, he eventually succeeded in coming closer to his company, all the while not having believed that he could. As the final challenge came to a close, his life in this new reality ended and he returned to the reality in which he'd lost his friends. He quickly found them. He spent a lot of time pacing, thinking about what his experience had taught him and how he could bring these teachings into his everyday life. I saw him walk in circles again and again, his two friends watching with concern. At last, and I'm not sure by what means, he came to the realization that his revelatory experience didn't need to be marked by any grand gesture. Trying to find a way to mark it in this way was futile. He instead went back to his friends and they continued traveling together. He was glad to see them.
Today is the anniversary of John's passing. I think I'll give family some calls before second bed time. I have not worked on the cross stitch piece today. I have though, eaten a good deal of two-bite brownies. I had an interesting time thinking about my experience of being misgendered today--and whether it is transphobic of me to find it amusing when I get a pretty even split of he/him and she/her in a day. I think it is to some extent. I don't think it always would be though. If I do want to correct people when they misgender me, how is there room for part of this experience, in its amalgamation, to be funny? Can I still be kind to myself when finding something like this funny? Maybe best to just laugh when I feel drawn to and spend time in my own knowing. Advocate for that knowing when I've got the energy to do so. I'm so tired today. John, I love you in the big forever kind of way.