Queen by My Own Arm

I had a dream the other night. Now I don’t usually remember my dreams, unless my subconscious mind is REALLY trying to tell me something important. And that’s usually about something I don’t realize I’m frightened about, but is stressing me.  This one was different.

A bit of background: in the Society for Creative Anachronism, which I haven’t participated in in years, they choose the monarch to rule for the next six (or four, or whatever the local bylaws state) months by holding a great tournament, wherein the worthy people who want the title for themselves and their consort fight it out with rattan swords.  Winner take all. Usually, for perhaps obvious reasons, there is a King chosen this way, and the Queen is his consort, but not always.

I dreamed that I’d won the Crown Tournament. Never mind that I wasn’t authorized to fight, hadn’t declared my consort (the EO of course), said consort wasn’t at the field  for me, and that I wasn’t actually a card carrying member of the group any more at all! I somehow had been allowed to fight, and I won.

So I started pointing out all these rules violations and why I couldn’t possibly be Queen, because I had broken them. I was told by a needle worker I admire, (and  in no uncertain terms) that I had won fairly, and that those were just pesky little issues that could be solved easily. Then she flat out told me that I had succeeded, and now I had to accept the rewards and responsibilities of that success. So when the EO picked me up, I got in the car with him to go home, and told him “congratulations, I won crown tourney, and now you’re King. Sorry.” He started grinning like the Cheshire cat who had just eaten a canary.

Heh. Thanks, subconscious.  I guess I needed a clue-by-four to figure that out! This past year I’ve been living one of the lives I always dreamed of. I’ve been writing. I’ve been designing, and people actually seem to want to stitch my designs! I’ve been able to spend time with my 76 year old father almost daily, and able to look after the sick kitties when they needed it.  The INCOME is coming, albeit not as quickly as I’d like it to turn over. I’ve got a supportive husband.  I am succeeding, even when I look at all the little things that I haven’t done — all the little “rules” that I’ve broken getting here. I haven’t done things the way they traditionally are done. Strangely enough, that doesn’t seem to matter. The world is changing, and solving the little (and the big)  problems are the things that make us grow.

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2 Responses to Queen by My Own Arm

  1. Heh, I read the title and thought (wow, that sounds Scadian!).

    Good for you–doing it your way and getting it done. Many folks are finding those rules are really more like guidelines.

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