The Windsor Dream
Good dream last night.
Two things from yesterday that led to the dream. I spoke at a Well being conference in Hereford. I had a strong sense all morning that I won’t be doing many more of these events. When the DoLs scheme is scrapped, the Get Steven Home story becomes irrelevant. Nobody will be interested in the story anymore. And that’s fine by me. When I got home, I discovered I’d received a hard copy of the Law Commission’s consultation paper. So firmly cementing my geek status, I curled up in bed for a good read.
When Steven was in the Unit in 2010, I had a useful recurring dream. I was in a small motorboat travelling upstream on the river at Windsor. Coming downstream, on a giant pink inflatable was the social worker. The inflatable was huge – at least the size of a bouncy castle. She was sitting on a throne, doing a Queenly wave to the people on the towpath. The inflatable was being pulled along by four male slaves. The inflatable was causing mayhem and in the dream, I was always stuck between avoiding it or ramming it. It made sense. She was incredibly (ego) inflated and was oblivious to her own narcissm. Everyone in her space had to work out how to avoid her without puncturing her vehicle.
Anyway, last night’s dream. Steven and I go to Windsor to feed the ducks. The river is sealed off by guards. Strewn across the water and the riverbank are pieces of pink rubber. The inflatable has exploded. Disappointed at not being able to feed the ducks, we go to the castle and visit Queen Mary’s dolls house. We are surprised to see in one of the rooms, there are models of me and Steven. We have become a historical artefacts in the dolls (DoLs) house. I like to think that if the Law Commission’s proposals are accepted there will be less opportunity for the new law to be driven by professional ego. The river will be a safer place and will accommodate everyone using its waters.
From → Social Care