Defiant Wisdom

Tag: boundaries

Moments that centre on energetic, emotional, or relational limits — including saying no, walking away, or withholding presence.

  • The Exclusion

    The Exclusion

    The Dream

    Herb school. Near but not close.

    Chit chat,
    arrangements.

    “May I join you?”
    I am small.

    Silence.

    “It’s OK.”
    I leave.
    Even smaller.

    SMS

    “You’re not welcome with us.”

    Report?
    Ignore?
    Respond?

    I expand.

    The Meaning

    herb school
    Community without belonging.

    small
    I make myself less before anyone asks.

    rejection
    There’s nothing left to interpret or accommodate.

    expanding
    No more shrinking. Being excluded doesn’t define me.

    What Lingers…

    What if belonging doesn’t matter when exclusion loses power?

    Marginalia

    There’s a difference between fearing you’re out of place and having it confirmed. But once the proof is there? It allows you to get out of your head and decide. What next?

  • A Wall of Snow and Ice

    A Wall of Snow and Ice

    The Dream

    trot
    trot
    trot.

    A wall 
    of snow and ice.

    He climbs down.
    My horse rears up.

    How do I pass,
    without breaking 
    my ass?

    “Use that bridge over there,”
    says
    the horse.

    The Meaning

    wall
    The way forward feels impossible to navigate safely.

    him
    He finds his own way. His solution isn’t mine.

    horse
    A part of me that’s sensitive to danger and assesses before acting. It has insight to share, if I’m willing to listen.

    bridge
    The obstacle is real, but the obvious way around it isn’t the only way. Looking only at what blocked the way made it easy to miss what already existed.

    What Lingers?…

    What if the way forward has been present all along, just beyond the problem?

    What if wisdom speaks from the place where panic cannot?

    Marginalia

  • Serpent

    Serpent

    The Dream

    Serpent.
    Head.
    Huge. 

    Strong,
    can’t…

    Hold. 

    Sling it,
    snakes back.

    Strike, fangs hiss.

    Sealed—I slam

    hard.

    The Meaning

    serpent
    Something is persistently demanding my attention.

    strength
    I’m struggling to cope, but I’m not avoiding it.

    strike
    I’m frightened of  being affected if I don’t deal with it properly.

    bathroom
    The room where we deal with our own s**t. I’m unable to get rid of whatever is bothering me, so I contain it. While the problem hasn’t gone away, its no longer free to strike.

    What Lingers…

    What if some threats can’t be defeated, only contained? 

    What if boundaries matter more than resolution?

    Marginalia

    Rather than try and solve every problem I’m faced with, I’m learning to find ways of containing them to reduce their impact.

  • The Nesting Vixen

    The Nesting Vixen

    The Dream

    A house I lived in.
    The vixen labours.
    She nests.

    I succour.

    Refuge
    care
    water
    paracetamol.

    I cannot stay.
    But they can.

    The Meaning

    house
    A place from my past becomes a place of refuge.

    birth
    Something vulnerable requires protection not control.

    care
    I can’t prevent every hardship. I offer what I can.

    leaving
    Things can continue without me.

    What Lingers?…

    What if care is about creating a refuge rather than solving? 

    What if we accept that what we can offer is enough?

    Marginalia

    Arriving at a point where I can’t fix or live for others. Unlike Their Old House I can only offer what I have, and that has to be enough.

  • Unfinished

    Unfinished

    The Dream

    In the name of
    our new house,
    partner and son.

    A mural? I moan.
    I list the basics
    not done.

    A spectre knocks,
    my boy stills
    to the bone.

    Its story, unfinished.
    I command.
    Pass on.

    You are not welcome here.
    Amen.

    The Meaning

    house
    A new endeavour is being undertaken.

    mural
    There’s a keenness to take care of foundational, essential aspects before concentrating on more purely creative or pleasurable projects.

    spectre
    Something either remains or appears to threaten the stability or safety of the situation.

    protection
    Here, quiet commitment becomes fierce protection: of what belongs, what needs protecting, and what doesn’t get access.

    What Lingers…

    Does every demand automatically have a claim on us?

    What if our ordinary groundedness is also our greatest weapon?

    Marginalia

    A new herb course, an ageing father, lots of things outside the family unit are demanding attention and time. But not everything unfinished is mine to carry.
    Finding a way to separate what is mine from what isn’t, and decide what gets access, has been crucial recently.

  • After the Drain

    After the Drain

    The Dream

    Commercial bank
    warm and
    rank.

    Its fish
    dead
    or dying.

    Dial
    RSPCA.

    Sewage
    drains

    sludge
    remains.

    Fresh water
    pours.

    No.

    It’s still the same.

    The Meaning

    pond
    The bank of emotions needs its poisoned swamp draining of waste before it’s refilled.

    What Lingers…

    What if emotional renewal requires more than refilling? What if it demands a purge?

    What if healing can’t begin until the waste is named, not just drained?

    Marginalia

    Sometimes, life needs a clear-out. We collect experiences and relationships that aren’t always beneficial. Much like the resurfacing of old memories in The X Files, here my dreams are demonstrating how a new environment can be just as harmful if what was originally toxic remains present.  

  • Part 2: The Break-In

    Part 2: The Break-In

    The Dream

    My house.
    I lived here—
    once upon a time.

    My son.
    Sleeping upstairs—
    small but not cosy.

    The door.
    A huge bolt,
    but so many holes.

    The windows.
    So many,
    with useless curtains.

    I am exposed.

    A knock.
    From the darkness—
    a man, desperate.

    “Open up!
    I need money—
    I see you in there!”

    I’m silent.
    He’s angered—
    smashing his way in.

    “Fire!”
    I shout—
    I’m terrified now.

    The Meaning

    house
    A past place of exposure and vulnerability.

    door
    One access point now, but full of holes. My inner boundary under direct threat.

    windows
    How I’m perceived. Someone sees me as withholding, but my refusal comes from fear, protection, and context—not stinginess.

    curtains
    I can’t hide myself. Transparency makes me a target.

    attack
    A collision of learned behaviour, fear of overextending, misunderstanding, and maternal instinct. I’m literally under siege.

    fire
    Survival strategy at its peak. I don’t cry for help—no one will come. I shout “fire” to draw people in through spectacle and self-interest.

    What Lingers…

    What if desire to help sits hand in hand with the fear of giving too much?

    What if the forgotten safety of intuition is replaced with survival scripts to protect?

    Marginalia

    After The Renovation from the night before, as much as this dream feels like its sequel, it doesn’t feel like it’s mine.

    I’ve spoken before about how dream sequences ramp themselves towards a terrible climax. Each night teasing themselves closer to the ‘root’ of the issue being explored.

    In Not My Dream, I also discussed how I’ve had dreams that haven’t belonged to me. This I believe, is another of those dreams.

    Only yesterday, I’d posted the insights I’d discovered about my maternal great-grandmother in Fragments of Catherine. In it, I state how she overextended her boundaries. This dream feels like her warning to me.

    To trust my instincts when things ‘feel’.

    To make sure I have boundaries in place. Not just in my waking life, but in my dreams also.

  • Clean Hands, Dirty World

    Clean Hands, Dirty World

    The Dream

    Changing rooms
    an argument
    she steals
    from me.

    On camera
    I see her
    I’m not innocent
    I still want justice.

    Camping
    they steal
    from me.
    I know
    where they live

    The Meaning

    theft
    I carry guilt but I’m not corrupted by it. I’m committed to doing the right thing, even if it burns me.

    What Lingers…

    They say let those without sin cast the first stone. But what if standing by means the world rots?

    What if doing the right thing still matters, even when no one gets to stay clean?

    Marginalia

    Sometimes I can’t locate my dreams into my waking life and I wonder where they are from? The past? Maybe the future? Maybe from another life entirely.

  • The Monster Inside

    The Monster Inside

    The Dream

    Family gathering, extended.
    I said goodnight.
    No one answered.

    I shouted it louder.

    Silence.

    I asked one of them,
    “What’s your problem?”
    “You’re a mess in skin.
    I don’t like you.”

    They couldn’t explain why.
    They’d just decided.

    I pleaded with my parents,
    my cousin:
    “Are you gonna let them
    get away with this?”

    Silence.

    I raged.
    I smashed things.
    I hit them.
    I threatened:
    “If you ever
    invite them again,
    I will cut you
    off.”

    They’d proved
    their point.

    I walked away.
    A mess
    behind me.

    I boarded
    a boat
    in a wetsuit.
    I was off
    to meet friends.

    I felt a fraud.
    I had a monster
    inside.

    The Meaning

    The social exile that happens in families— not for what you’ve done, but for what you represent.

    Erasure is harm. Silence is a weapon. And it’s complicit.

    The desperation to be witnessed. The rage that erupts when you’re made invisible— and somehow you’re the problem?

    I didn’t cause the wound. But I raged.
    And that gave them their proof.

    Now I walk away with the shame.
    Am I the monster, because I roared at those who poked me?

    What Lingers?…

    What if monster is just the name given to anyone who finally roars?

    What if invalidation wounds louder than anger ever could?

    Marginalia

    This dream takes me closer to the bone than My Breast and the Boy, where I was only the witness. Now I’m in the front-row seat of my own mess — and there’s no escaping my humanness again. Much like Flawed but Trying: When triggered, I roar.

    The work I’ve done on my astrological ancestry gives me a sense of where this originated, and why it’s been passed to me — to rage on behalf of ancestors who couldn’t. I’m not shirking responsibility for my own actions. I’m just learning that What I Carry Isn’t All Mine.

  • Misogyny at the Water Park

    Misogyny at the Water Park

    The Dream

    The water park—
    a woman sliding with joy,
    wild and fearless.
    A guy started,
    “Excuse me, you need to—”
    Before he finished, she shot back:
    “Your words have misogynist intent.”
    Then she yeeted herself
    down the slide,
    super fast.
    I followed.

    As we rose from the water,
    I asked,
    “If I said or felt the same as him,
    would you say my misogyny is
    internalised?”
    “Yes…” she replied.

    —

    I was waiting in a queue;
    a woman cut in front.
    She had the audacity to whine
    my umbrella had sprayed her.
    When we arrived at the desk,
    I said,
    loudly:
    “Actually, I’m next —
    this woman jumped in front
    and now has the cheek to complain.”
    The attendant said nothing.
    Both she and I —
    we were told to wait.

    The attendant said,
    “Get your shoes and socks on —
    we’re going to abseil.”

    We were ecstatic.

    —

    I met with a friend.
    They were telling me
    about their new partner,
    but still obsessed with their ex.
    “Let me know
    when you want to face
    the hard truth.”

    She was silent.
    No one ever wants hard truth,
    I thought.
    But I do.
    It’s where the honey is,
    right at the centre
    of the bee hive.

    The Meaning

    woman
    Policed for being free and having fun,
    this woman lives her life out loud and refuses to conform to cultural expectations.
    I’m not leading — I’m following —
    while also questioning my own internalised boundaries.

    attacking from the victim position
    Here we have the abuser playing the victim —
    and me calling it out.
    And what do we both get?
    Silence. Stagnation. The waiting room of consequence.
    Polite society doesn’t want truth—it wants compliance.
    Even when you’re right, you’re a problem

    descent
    Now we’re invited into a structured descent,
    a contrast to the earlier one of chaotic abandon.
    The fact that both the perpetrator and I — the victim —
    have been invited suggests this:
    the woman is a part of me.
    A part that has played (or can play)
    into the DARVO dynamic:
    Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender.
    I see all of these women as aspects of myself.

    the truth
    I’m waiting for my friend to open space for growth, she blinks, she doesn’t want to hear it but I know this is where healing and growth resides.

    What Lingers…

    What if joy didn’t need internal policing to be permitted?

    What if truth-telling wasn’t punished, but welcomed as a catalyst for change?

    Marginalia

    I’m on holiday and I’ve just written Baked In. This is my subconscious exploring the themes I confronted in there only a few days prior.