I awoke at 4 a.m. this morning with the words of the song ‘Painting the roses red / March of the cards’ in my head.
Painting the roses red.
We’re painting the roses red.
We dare not stop,
Or waste a drop,
So let the paint be spread.
We’re painting the roses red.
We’re painting the roses red.
Oh, painting the roses red.
And many a tear be shed,
Because we know,
They’ll cease to grow,
In fact, they’ll soon be dead,
(Book – Lewis Carroll – Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland adapted by Disney 1951)
My head was full of the classic Disney version of Alice in Wonderland, and the song’s words played repeatedly in my head. It is hard to stay in bed when your mind is racing, and I wish these dreams would happen at a more respectable time!
Killing the Roses.
By 4.30 a.m., I am drinking my first coffee, pondering the dream’s meaning. Why today, why now?
The 1951 Disney animated adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s book depicts the playing cards painting the white roses red. Alice asks the card/gardeners what they are doing, and after their explanation, she willingly helps them with their task. The beautiful white roses are painted red, so as not to disappoint the queen. The gardeners know that they need to paint the roses to save their own lives, but in doing so, they will kill the roses. It’s a futile task which doesn’t end well for the gardeners. The Queen realises she is being tricked and orders the gardeners to lose their heads.
Like most dreams, I try to analyse their meaning and how they relate to my life and work.
Authenticity.
I reflect on authenticity. I look at my life and see how I paint red roses to please others—a little splash of crimson several times throughout the day, a small splodge here and there. It shouldn’t hurt; they are just small splashes that keep everyone happy. In my mind, the crimson turns to my blood. How much of my life force do I give away to keep everyone happy?
At what cost? By 5 a.m., I am reflecting on the cost of the paint job. The song tells us the cost and reminds us that we already know the price before we start painting. Yet paint we do. We paint, deflecting the pain and putting it off to another day.
Authenticity in Marriage.
A common issue in marriage is being inauthentic to keep the peace. We often believe we must change little things (and big things) to have a harmonious marriage. We can chip away and tweak who we are to please everyone around us. A problem with chipping away can be that we wake up one day and no longer recognise or like the person we have become.
What do we do when this happens?
Jill’s story
I have known Jill for years; she is a friend rather than a client (her name has been changed). Jill has been married for over twenty years and is a mum and stepmum. We met very early in our careers when we were both single. We worked long hours and partied at weekends, where food was often seen as wasted calories. Our lives were busy, and people came in and out of our lives.
Jill met Tom at a party, and things changed. Tom was recently divorced and the father of a little girl. After a while, the parties stopped, and half of Jill’s time was filled with child-friendly activities at child-friendly times. Full disclosure: I missed my friend and having someone to share my social life, but I could see she was happy. Jill was changing, but she loved Tom and wanted him in her life.
Life was busy, and we lost touch for a few years. Marriages and babies took over for a while. Fast forward fifteen years, and I meet Jill again. We hug, and it is like nothing has changed. We sit down for a coffee and catch up.
All is not well with Jill. She confesses that she feels lost, and I note that she looks depressed—she has lost the sparkle and high energy that she used to exude. Jill thinks that she gave up and changed everything to fit into her husband’s life and that she no longer recognises the person she has become. She is considering divorce. Thinking about her while I write, I realise that she has painted too many roses.
Some self-reflection required.
Jill’s story still needs an ending; I will leave that with her. My story and script still need to be explored, and self-reflection is required. Painting the roses isn’t fixing a problem; it merely puts off the problem and pushes it into the future, a ticking time bomb awaiting explosion.
Why not take this opportunity to consider the roses you are painting and if there is a cost to your authentic self? Want to take this work further? Get in touch.
