Dream Work

My brain is all over the place today. Over the past few days, I’ve gotten to bed late and my sleep had been beset with vivid and complicated dreams so my sleep has not been very restful. Just last week I found myself thinking: “It’s been a while since I’ve dreamed”, and afterwards it was as if my brain said: “Oh, you want DREAMS , huh? Well, challenge ACCEPTED.”

In the first dream, I was connected to my toddler nephew by a thin gauge IV tube that ran from my left arm into his right arm. I wasn’t sure what it was there for, only that it was important- and well anchored: I couldn’t pull it out accidentally. I discovered this when he fell asleep for a nap and I tried to get up to do something only to get pulled up short, having forgotten we were connected. I was only supposed to watch him for a day or two, but then my brother-in-law, Steadfast, decided he wanted to take my sister out for a weekend getaway: because what was I going to do? Say no?

I woke up.

In the second dream, I was visiting my parents new house. It was under renovations which meant it was nothing but plaster and plywood and dust and debris. It was also as big as the Louvre: vast echoing hall-like rooms in long rows. It was also in some low lying area like Venice or New Orleans and the whole property was swamped with about eight inches of water. The rooms were airy and well lit from huge windows, but also cold: I got the impression it was winter. A woman was there with a small child, a boy, maybe eighteen months old and bundled up in a heavy coat. She was amusing him by having him look for loose coins among the debris. I wasn’t sure why either of them were there: they weren’t relatives that I knew of. I was shocked at how many coins the little boy was finding, because I usually have an extremely sharp eye and had walked these floors quite a lot. It seemed unlikely that I would have missed so much change: until I discovered that she was taking the change out of my coin jar (which was the size of a dishpan and half full of coins) and scattering them liberally across the floor. The little boy got wise to this and went directly to tv’s source- tipping the entire jar onto the floor with a resounding crash.

“Found!” He said.

“Nononono.” I edged him out of the corner where tyre heap of coins were. “These are my coins, you can’t just take them. You can keep the ones you found on the floor, but these are mine.” I gave the woman a salty glare. She just shrugged, convinced she had done nothing wrong.

I woke up.

The other dreams elude me now- I didn’t write them down in time so naturally I’ve forgotten them, but they’ve involved a similar level of detail and plot. There was always a sense of needing to accomplish something and not being able to do so thanks to complicated circumstances, unusual obstacles, or both.

Not sure what all this means on a symbolic level, besides the fact that I clearly now have too much creative energy and not enough of an outlet to burn it off. The bottom line is the same, though: I’m not experiencing an optimally restful nights sleep.

So I might be forgiven, I hope, for being space-y and distracted these days.

~ by Gwydhar Gebien on July 17, 2019.

2 Responses to “Dream Work”

  1. An ocean full of symbolic treasures!

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