I awoke this morning with a head full of dreams. I was a woman in therapy. I was with dad, trying to resolve a woman's problems. I was with Philip and Katy, trying to explain why he wanted to live off campus next semester with his wife. I was an old man giving a young man as good as he got. I was the young man, driving through the South African countryside. I was in a commercial for the vehicle I drove. I was the young woman, trying to overcome the deep psychological trauma of her past.
I think she was the woman from the first part of my dream. Then, she was in a self-help group with two others. The moderator was omnipresent. The other woman was young and irresponsible. The young man was attractive and funny. We both wanted him. The other girl dressed more provocatively to get him. I didn't, but I thought about it. Seriously, I did, and as soon as the thought crossed my mind that I could own him--so completely--just by being a sexual object, I was revulsed. I was so disgusted by myself that the dream itself took another shape and I became me to run through six other dream shapes and finally come back to her, standing in the South African heat in a sun dress, following her spirit guide through a stream. Why is she third person? She/I walked down a twisting path past a singing capuchin And to the stream. The path became a metaphor for my psyche and underwent tortuous convolutions until it corkscrewed under the water itself. My feet stuck to the path and my spirit guide yelled that I needed to hear the water in my own life. I yelled back--
"I don't mind hearing the water, but do I have to see it as well?"
I dissipated as I awoke, but I could still remember how dirty I felt at having my body be a weapon and how it felt to have that body turned against me by society and my subconscious. The worst part of it was that I was a subtle weapon: the young man would have believed himself to be making the decisions rationally. Anyone who looked at me would think the thoughts I gave them, even me. I didn't realize my image had done this to myself until three sentences ago.
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This is oddly parallel to my dreamscape this morning. Except that mine ended with me being a plant person born of the earth trying desperately to explain to my dad that I was drowning because the water was too deep and I was too small to fight its current. He thought I was drowning just to make a point.
ReplyDeleteI guess turning your dream adventures into something about me is the only way I know to say, "Thank you for sharing; this feels deep." Or maybe I'm just selfish.
Eeh. Nobody will know either way.
ReplyDeleteThe good news is that I don't usually become other people in my dreams. This is kind of new for me. So I'm trying to figure it out.
Interesting. I am the opposite way and assumed most people were. Maybe Freud was right about a thing or two.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you will. I wish I could help.
Empathy?
Empathy.
ReplyDelete