Sunday, January 29, 2012

Dreams Can Be Actually Insightful

I don't often remember my dreams, anymore.  I used to remember them very clearly, and I even wrote some of them down in a dream journal.   I would then consult with textbooks on dreaming and books on dream interpretation.  For a long time, I wrote down many of my dreams.  There were tornadoes chasing my car, for instance.  Me dancing around a fire naked.  Me hunting sparkly vampires naked,  being at Ford's Theater naked, etc.  I may have made the dream about the sparkly vampires up.  Looking back, I've noticed I have had lots of dreams about being naked in public.  I am not sure why, except that I tend to borrow Angelina Jolie's body as a substitute for mine.  Apparently, my subconscious brain thinks that she's dreamy and that we look alike. 

Nowadays, the second I am fully awake, whatever I was dreaming about dissipates, vanishing into where ever it is that these things go. If I do remember a dream,there's usually a reason. 

The other night, (probably because my bloggy soulmate Andrea  wrote about her dream), I dreamt about my grandparent's pink house out in the no-man's land of Illinois.   It was a weirdly disturbing dream.  I woke up at 3:47AM and immediately decided that 10mg of melatonin was too much.   I finally fell asleep again, but I remembered the dream as soon as I woke up.  I had to tell Larry all about it.

"I had a weird dream," I began, as we were getting dressed for work.

"What was it?"  Larry was all ears.

"I was at my grandparent's house in the breezeway at night and there was a man-shaped blob at the backdoor."

"That's IT?"  I guess that he was expecting me to tell a long, drawn out tale.  Larry has been gifted with  what he calls "Scooby-Doo" dreams; convoluted affairs that take a while time to relate, given his penchant for play-by-play storytelling.  My brevity both confused and annoyed him.

"It disturbed me enough to wake me up," I pointed out.  "What the heck do you think it means?"

"It was your conscience," Larry asserted.

"You're actually telling me that my conscience is a man-shaped blob?"  I stared at him.

"Yep."  With that profound statement, my husband walked out of the room.  In the silence that followed his exit, I thought about it. 

That would probably explain a lot. 

4 comments:

  1. I don't think I sleep enough anymore to make it dream state. But, I hope my conscious is the sexy version of me. I'd just enjoy that more!

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  2. I don't think I sleep enough anymore to make it dream state. But, I hope my conscious is the sexy version of me. I'd just enjoy that more!

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  3. Wow. I don't even know what to say to that. Except could it be that Larry your conscious? you know, seeing how he's the nearest man shaped blob to you? Just wondering....

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  4. Hahaha! When I first saw your profile pic I thought you were AJ's younger, sexier sister. Weird that you now dream of being her ...

    It works for me that house dreams are often interpreted as the personality of the dreamer, with different rooms showing different personality aspects. So the man shaped blob thing could work in that context too!!

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