Last eve I had a most interesting dream. The details are all blurry and I shall not really go into them here, because they aren't what was intriguing about it. I started thinking when I woke, as will often happen after a dream. I was pondering the notion of how people will sometimes look outside of themselves for the qualities they wished they had.

Brief synopsis: I was placed into a sort of prison camp/facility by, obviously, captors. There was a girl there who planned escape attempts. Eventually, one worked and I got out. For some reason there was a long span of time, but I went back years later to get the others out. The girl was still there, her spirit undiminished by the passage of time and the confines.

She had an inner strength that shined upon us, and I know that I would like to be like that. I loved her because I admired her. I won't be as petty as to say that is the only reason I loved her, for she was wonderful in many other ways, but I wanted to have her strength, determination, beauty and intelligence. It was almost a possessive wish, which has no place in love as far as I'm concerned. I realized that I wanted to possess those qualities within myself, and that it would be so much easier to find them outside of myself than to have to work for them.

Yes, okay... I KNOW that sounds terrible. I agree with that fact. It is a terrible thing. It is indicative of a sickness as far as I'm concerned.

But my realization from this dream is that, in some ways, I still am looking for perfection outside of myself, rather than struggling to attain perfection on the inside. There is a little story that I have related earlier on in my journals and now have almost completely in my memory. It is the story of Nasruddin talking about his `perfect' love. I took in this story because it brought the conflict between looking outside and inside for perfection clearly to my mind. But like most things, we must be reminded with fresh bread that we are hungry every now and again. I consider this another reminder.

But there was something more to it as well. Not only am I being reminded of the distinction between inner questing and outer questing, it ties in well to some of the troubles I've been having recently. And the problem is something I think of as another sickness in the world, lethargy.

It isn't depression, it's close but not the same. Depression has a certain bite to it, as far as I'm concerned. And doubtless some people would argue the fact...I don't care about that. The only point I'm making is that, recently there has been something else malfunctioning and it isn't depression, but it is a close relative who always visits along similar times.

I'm not sure which one came first, or which one comes first, depression or lethargy. I think it's right along the lines of the chicken/egg quandary. And I'll give that sort of problem the same answer I give to the chicken/egg quandary, who cares? They are both bloody well here, give it up! I'm very much a simpleton in some respects thank you.

There is some sort of connection between the two though. Where one comes the other soon follows. They feed off of each other too. Lethargy and depression, twins in the emotional family...?

One of the things I've realized I do is that I have a tendency to examine my deeds at the end of the day. This rarely turns out to be a good thing, because normally I feel that I *should* have done a lot more. Of course, then I try to make up for it, so I sit down at the computer or with a book and paper and stay up later to try and get something worthwhile done. This makes me more and more tired and usually doesn't accomplish anything of note. And, of course, the next day I am up with a few hours less sleep than would do me good and starting the day off with a taste of used thoughts left in my head. As opposed to being fresh and new after wiping the slate clean.

There is something tricky herein about ideals. For obviously, they are good things to have. I don't need to defend them. But at the same time, there is a certain leeway that one must give oneself, for one's own good. We are all our own worst critics after all.

I guess that sometimes the trick is just to do, and do the damned best you can. Everything else can just bloody burn!