Saturday, March 6, 2010

Brake Failure

I had another car dream today; again an issue with brakes.

I'm driving a new sports car. The brakes get worse and worse. At one point I am picking up speed and realize I have to run into something in order to stop. I am approaching a red pickup and grab onto the front end (with my hands) to stop the car. Inside the truck are guys who work there, having their lunch. The place of business is a car shop. My car is wrecked.

At first I feel fortunate to have stopped there. The business is trying to get info to the insurance company in order to get them to approve a claim. They do more damage to the car to make it more significant to the insurance company. I'm uncomfortable with it. No one is listening to me. They are telling me that I'm too old for that car and they think I'm older than I am because of my driver's license, which is wrong.

I begin to feel VERY uncomfortable and the guys keep touching me inappropriately. I look at my clothes and I'm having trouble keeping my skirt from hiking up too short. I'm wearing a look that can only be described as hooker chic.

I'm beginning to protest and they begin to get nervous that I might get them in trouble. I realize that if they are not successful in their claim to the insurance company, it will be harder to get the work done and they've unnecessarily damaged my car. They smashed in the roof, as if I'd had a roll over, but that wouldn't make sense because the insurance company would question why I wasn't hurt.

It was closing time and everyone wanted to go home. They sent in a doctor to examine me. It was Mike somebody from high school, but he was crazy, crazy, crazy and was trying to put two foot long hemostats inside my nose! Someone positioned me under a mechanical, collapsing canopy, and trapped me inside it and lifted me up. I was stuck there all weekend. They let me back down on Monday.

On Monday, I was super pissed and demanded to call my lawyer. I needed his phone number and no one would give it to me. They handed me a phone without a dial; I had to connect through the switchboard. One person got a phone book and pointed to the attorney's phone number, but it was his mother's number. When I wanted to call it anyway, this person just kept insisting that I dial it, but there was no way to dial it.

I woke in frustration. What's up with these car dreams!?

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Sharing Love

I'm not sure what to think about this morning's dream. Maybe something about sharing love?

I'm married. It is my honeymoon. He's sitting up in bed and I'm laying next to him. It feels like day light. I'm suddenly struck to take a moment and just stare at him. I'm married. It's so foreign feeling yet when I look at this man I'm happy, very happy. He's older. He's very handsome. He has straight salt & pepper hair (more salt than pepper). He has strong features and a square jaw. He's a football player. I feel like he's a southern gentleman.

He asks what I'm staring at. I'm speechless. I'm happy. I don't want to forget the feelings I have for him. He's thoughtful and romantic. He points to some gifts he's bought for me, for our honeymoon. I'm excited by him. I want to be with him.

I go to take a shower. I turn the water on hot. The water is getting cold so I turn up the heat to soak up the rest of the hot water. An older, 90 to 100 years, woman gets in the shower with me. She's fully clothed in a dark flowered dress. She keeps her back to me and doesn't speak. She behaves as if I'm not there. I hurry to get out. I'm alone again.

I feel as if I have nothing of my own. I have long, wet, curly hair. I want to comb it out. I see a table piled with grooming tools that belong to someone else. I feel guilty for not asking permission; I feel like I'm stealing. I use the hair pick, then a comb. The owners of the brushes and combs almost catch me using them.

I go back into the bedroom. I'm happy to be back with him. However, there is a feeling that the love I want can't be fully realized. I've chosen to live with it, and below the happiness there is an ever present acknowledgement that I've given up ever feeling completely satisfied and in love to my soul, even though he wants it too.

Maybe there is one true love. Maybe if you have it and you give it up you don't realize it until you come close to it again, and realize that the one missing thing is the thing you can never get back.

Or maybe, there is a message about privacy and sharing space. In the dream I have nothing of my own and that is not a state I expect to be in. I expect in my later life that I will have peace and love and live in my own home and be in a somewhat traditional setting.

In my dream I live in a shared setting which made me feel poor. At the same time, those things aren't really important. I've been working toward traditional but not really preparing for it along the way. It is important, but it isn't.

Mistaken Expectations

A couple days ago I had a dream that has really stuck with me and I've decided to finally write it down.

I'm pushing my car around, trying to keep it from going into the river. I'm not driving it...I'm pushing it and pulling it and the river is rushing. There's someone else at the river bank. I open the door and a roll of toilet paper falls out and I can't catch it but it rolls away to a safe place where I can pick it up after I secure the car. The other person at the river picks it up and wants to throw it away; I yell, "Hey! I need that!"

As I'm pushing my car up the hill, I'm trying to get to school. I pass friends from my high school days along the way. I finally make it to class and the teacher doesn't care about how difficult it was for me to get there. It didn't seem as important as I thought it would be; the teacher was indifferent.

It was very frustrating.

I guess this dream represents the struggles I've had in my journey. The toilet paper is to clean up the crap (talk about literal symbolism). And it was all for what?

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Man in the Mirror

Okay, I must admit, I've been dreaming but not posting. I've got all kinds of excuses, but they are excuses.

I've been dreaming for the last week about love and being sick and change. Is there a doctor in the house? Why, yes indeed, there IS a doctor in the house.

Had a dream the other night about someone at my party vomiting. Then I had another dream about being ill, but I no longer remember anything else about it. Should I go to the doctor? Or is it a way of pointing me to the doctor (that is a little cryptic, but I'll have to fill you in on what it means after I'm done with my most recent class)?

Yesterday I woke with a song in my head, not one I've heard before. All I remember is that the same lyrics over and over, were "time for a change." This morning I dreamed of MJ's Man in the Mirror...I'm talking to the man in the mirror. I'm asking him to change his ways. And no message couldn't get any clearer. Take a look at yourself and make a change.

My hormones have gone crazy in the last 2 days. All last week I dreamed about love. True love. Heart love. Wonderful being in love love that lasted forever and I thought I'd never have. Well, I still don't have it, but in my dreams it feels significant.

It all started when someone asked me if I've considered getting my doctorate. Then the dreams came and the "coincidences" came. And boy, is it scary. One day last week I said to my son, "I think we're moving to San Diego." Then I got an email said UCSD all over it! Needless to say my son freaked out and so did I. Lots of little stuff like that is happening and having a big impact.

Wow, I can't wait until this cake is done baking!!!

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Broken Eggs on Fire

I'm in a house that is mine but feels like it should be my daughter's, Hillary's. Isaac is there, the dogs are there, a woman who is not my mother but plays the mother is there. I think the baby is there but I don't see her.

We are redecorating a book case for Lydia. Hillary is being sneaky about tissue paper patterns and scissors. I'm suddenly groggy sleepy and decide to take a nap. Hillary, comes out of the kitchen, feels the same as I do, but decides to take a shower.

The dog jumps on my face and grosses me out. There are orange pawprints all over the white carpet; it looks like powdered cheese. I go into the kitchen to see what he got into and find broken eggs on the floor.

Isaac yells from the other room, "Mom! Fire!" I run in to see flames coming up from the floor along the wall. I yell for Hillary to bring water from the dishes in the sink. I try the water from the small sink conveniently right there on the other wall. The flames are blue and when one goes out another pops up somewhere else, like the Whak a Mole game at a carnival arcade.

When I realize that someone left something burning downstairs and how groggy I was, I connect the two and know we are in HUGE danger. I yell, "Call 911! Get out! Get the dogs! Get the baby!" It is all so out of control I wake up. Broken eggs, burning house...very bad, something is very wrong somewhere.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Liquid Love Story

This is an image of Romeo and Juliette from the cover of an audio book. The song in this post names them often.

Well day-before-yesterday's dream must have been important, because last night I had a dream with the same theme. I woke at 4:00 a.m. too hot to sleep and went back to bed half hour later. When I awoke the Taylor Swift song, Love Story, was going through my head (I listen to some music, but only when I'm in the car.) When I awoke the second time, again the song was blaring in my head, though I didn't remember my dream. When I got in the car to go to the doctor, what do you think was on the radio!?

In my dream I was a student in a classroom. The other students were very ethnic looking and it was like a glee club. Singing was a way of communicating, and it was also a method of transformation from one physical world to another. In the dream I was bored or feeling less good than the other students; I closed my eyes and started humming a deep, resounous tune and began to float away.

I floated to a place where there was water. I went swimming and it was luxurious and sensual and mystical. When I got out of the water my teacher was there. He wasn't a superior, but someone I had a deep emotional connection to. We had sex that wasn't like we were lovers, but it was like sharing a beautiful gift.

I'm still strong, bathing in the waters, being whole and complete, cleansed, floating...or maybe like amniotic fluid, the water represents an environment from which I emerge, reborn. But now I'm really confused by the love song and scene, and the coincidences...or are they? Is someone thinking about me? Sending a message?

Monday, September 21, 2009

Wash me in the water

I awoke feeling like I needed to cry. There is someone who feels like they've re-entered my life. I had put space between them and I to get some perspective and protect me from the drama that is unceasingly in their life. I'm crazy over this person and when they come back into my life the craziness begins all over again. I just don't get why I feel about them the way I do. If I perceive they are disappointed or annoyed in any way I feel so crushed. Is it hormones? Am I crazy? I don't know. No one is reading this anyway, so no one could understand.

I'm shopping for a new, wait, I am not shopping for a new house but a mother figure is shopping for a new house. She's taken me and my sisters out of school for lunch. We're supposed to go back but I don't think that she will return us to school; it is not in her "plan".

I am feeling lost as I wait for her to return. I am abandoned. I am at the beach and I find security in the water. I have a feeling that speaks to me; it says "Fuck them. They don't know. I don't care. It won't hurt me." But I do care. And it does hurt. And I get into the surf.

It is rough and takes great physical effort to maintain equilibrium between the water and sky. It is hazy and I can not see a grounding point in front of or behind me. I am slightly confused and slightly scared but I am feeling strong enough to make it back to shore.

Back on shore, I am wearing yellow. My arms are bare. A girl compliments the strength in my body and says I should flex my arm. As I do so, I watch a very tan, very muscular arm bulge like a balloon, but slowly, and gracefully, and full of strength, and as the skin expands a pattern appears on the skin. It is a triangular design within a circular shape. The triangle is made of bricks and each brick has a symbol on it. It looks ancient, and the overall shapes, turns, curves and points look like Maori tattoo, and the color looks like henna, and the message looks like hieroglyphics.

And I am stunned, both dreaming and waking, by the importance of this occurrence, and that no one can see it but me. I want to know what it means. I want to understand its message and be prepared and safe and strong and useful.

There were more interesting parts in the dream that had to do with high school friends and lawyers and looking for a job. But the above posted part, especially the symbol on my arm, seems most mysterious, significant, and psychic.

And as I lie there remembering to remember the dream I am thinking about him. I am wondering what he is doing, does he know how much I love him, and how important it is to me for him to be happy and proud of me. And I want to cry because this is all making me feel crazy, because it is all on me. It is, must be, my imagination.

Does he get annoyed with me because he's really annoyed with himself? Does he love me the way I love him and he gets frustrated with that because he doesn't want it? Is he acting out? Am I imagining it? Am I imagining his staring eyes, dark smile, loud vibrations, or is it real?

Regardless, I am strong, I can flex, there is a message written under my skin that is ancient and important.