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?