top of page

Dream a little dream

I'm paying closer attention to my dreams these days. Not a dreamy vision of the future, but the mad impulses my brain generates while I'm asleep. Since I suspect that my unconscious mind plays a key role in how I'm coping with figuring myself out, it only makes sense to pay closer attention to what it's saying to me while I'm, well, unconscious.




I seem to have two types of dreams: (1) variations on a re-occurring dreams, and (2) one-off dreams that consist of strange twists on familiar situations. All of my dreams share some central themes; or, if I'm honest, one central theme.


My re-occurring dreams are typically focused around trying to find a bathroom or getting into an elevator. The bathroom dreams involve me being in some kind of public place, and having to go to the bathroom quite desperately. When I find the toilets, they're either disgusting (overflowing with feces and urine), or there is no privacy, with the toilets right out in the middle of an open space. The elevator dreams are all relatively similar to one another, and include some elements of the elevator going too fast, getting stuck, or breaking somehow (like swinging from a broken elevator cable). These dreams are pretty consistent in both content and process.


The one-off dreams are typically quite bizarre. In fact, I decided to post about my dreams this morning because I had a particularly vivid one last night. In my dream, I was going to give a presentation at a conference, something I have done a hundred times in my literal past. I arrived at the venue full of pep and vigour, confident and ready to go. I was presenting with two colleagues. The room was full of a diverse range of people and I felt excited to be there. Then we started the presentation, and things went down hill quickly. I realized that the audience members, in their diversity, were expecting a presentation on wildly different topics than the one I had prepared for. One was expecting to hear about breastfeeding. One was there for brain development. An elderly fellow in the back row was there for dog training. I have virtually no knowledge of any of these topics, so panic ensued. Shortly thereafter, my colleagues informed me that I really should have kept on top of my email correspondence with them and prepared more appropriately. They leaned in on me like hungry sharks. I shouted, "Fine! I guess I'll leave then!" I grabbed all my belongings and stormed out. Somehow, in the moment I left the building I looked down and was dressed in just a towel. I fumbled around trying to find where my car was parked, and noted with surprise that I was also, somehow, in the middle of a country fair. There were goats and dogs and rabbits everywhere. After cutting through a hot dog stand and navigating around all the animals, I found my car. But then there was no road to get out, and suddenly there were rivers and sink holes and waterfalls everywhere.


Then I woke up.


It doesn't take a doctorate for me to surmise that all of these dreams are really about one thing: control. I know that my subconscious is telling me that I need to relinquish my perception of control, and my relentless drive to have a tight reign on everything that happens in my life. I know that I will have to learn how to do this to be really present, and to invest my energy in what is most significant rather that what I think I should be doing. Hopefully, as I learn more about my own path to significance my dreams will change. I would love to dream about enjoying the rivers and waterfalls rather than trying to dodge them, or to dream about moments of care rather than distress.



Comentários


bottom of page