Saturday, October 8, 2011

DREAM ENTRIES FROM THE SOAPBOX NOTEBOOK: READ 'EM AND WEEP (or not)

   
                               THE FASCINATION OF DREAMS


     Who hasn't awakened on many mornings -- sometimes quite early -- after having experienced absorbing, arresting and, more often than one might like, absolutely terrifying dreams?

      I know I have. In fact, at times I have been so impressed, even staggered, by some of my dreams that I have taken to making notes about them, thinking they might serve as a basis for future stories of imagination. But recently, having come across a few of those notes, I've decided they can stand on their own, without elaboration or revision into some other form, and are well-suited to Blog recording.

     I mean, they do amount to fiction on their own, don't they? Certainly they do. In fact, they in many ways are more fictional than the finely crafted material of conventional fiction, for the simple reason that they come from unconscious, unfettered, natural inspiration within the sleeping mind.

      And, so, friends, I now proceed to share a couple of recent dreams, of two different nights, that I feel, even in their twisted, disconnected logic and sometimes ghastly "events," may be of general interest, and even provide fodder for those psychologists and psychiatrists, both amateur and professional, who believe dreams actually mean something (but can't agree on what, thanks to the variant theories of the late, great Drs. Freud and Jung, and their intellectual descendants).
                                                            ------

              I THINK I WAS JUST ON MY WAY TO WORK LAST NIGHT
      I am on foot, making my way to work, following a group of workmates. It is daylight, a grey, overcast day. I am trying to catch up, but can't. My mates start to cross an open field. Perhaps it's the city's fairgrounds, but in the off-season: there are no buildings or fixtures on the field, but office buildings and homes surround the field perimeters.

     My mates are taking a shortcut in crossing the field. As I follow them, I suddenly encounter a cat attacking and chewing on a roundish, bun-shaped smaller creature. As I watch, struggling with a vague thought that I ought to do something, the bun-shape morphs into the form of a dark grey rat. The cat is much larger than the rat and it doesn't seem a fair fight.

      The cat runs off, leaving me with what looks like a dead rat. The animal is absolutely still, and I begin to think I should try to revive it. There's a burning cigarette in this scene somehow, and as I stand there looking at the rat, smoke is rising from the area of the rat's abdomen. I mentally note, "This rat has swallowed a burning cigarette!"

                       SO LET'S TRY REVIVING THE CRITTER
      It seems like a good idea, I tell myself, to pour water on the rat, perhaps squelch the smoke and bring the rat around. Oh, yes -- here's a shoebox, the rat will fit into it, and I can pour water into the box, cover the rat, then pour the water out and the rat will revive. (I had not the slightest thought of what on earth I was doing trying to save a rat. But we must try to remember that this was "just a dream.")

      I begin to implement my rescue plan. And after I've poured the water out of the box, the rat is far from conscious. Seems clear to me now that it is not going to revive. It is just a drowned, dead, rat.

      Somebody in the crowd that this rat drama has attracted says of my hesitation, "Forget it -- bury the goddam thing."

      I look around for a possible grave site, but it strikes me that I ought not to be burying a rat in these historic fairgrounds.

      I am mystified, and a bit forlorn, at being incapable of finding a rat grave.  I realize I have an impossible problem here . . .

      And thus ends, or fades out, that weird, crazy dream.               
                                                             ------

                              LEAPS OF FAITH CAN BE OVERDONE
      The second dream I relate in this chronicle (which will have future chapters, I do believe, of other dreams) begins with my walking among the streets of huge and tall office buildings, hotels and apartments -- I suppose somewhat like those of downtown Vancouver.

      But then, all of a sudden, I am no longer on the street, but on the top of one of these buildings, very, very high.  How I may have found my way up there is of no concern to me whatever. And, once on top, it is my feeling that I am and have been for some time walking and jumping from building-top to building-top, from flat roof to flat roof,  all of which are very close to one another, making each leap relatively easy.

      Each leap provides an exciting and joyful feeling.

                            PERHAPS IN A DREAM IT MATTERS NOT
      Except that, because I have been making all these easy leaps continuously, I have formed something of a habit with this series of jump-jump-after-jump. And, so, I find myself unable to stop the pattern; it just seems very natural. I am more or less invincible in my jumping, and there is no jump too difficult for me to make.

      Unfortunately it is only when I am in the midst of the last one that I realize I have taken one leap that is over a distance too far for me to be sure of covering. I naturally come up short.

       As I find myself falling rapidly from many storeys high, I say to myself -- calmly, as if I am a mere observer -- "You know, you are quite a sorry idiot . . . "

       At that exact moment I awaken, terribly glad to find out I had not been in the real world. Letting out a huge exhalation of air, I am secure in the realization that I have been experiencing only a dream.

       And yet I also realize in that moment that I have one hellish headache . . .

                                                                  ------

     P.S.   Re: the Rat Dream: Perhaps in a future dream I could "bury" the rat corpse in a novel way -- say by leaving it on the roof of a skyscraper, instead of worrying about finding it a burial place in the ground. No, just kidding. Anyway, one would think that different dreams on different nights can't "communicate" with each other in such a way. Or can they . . . ?
      P.P.S. Re: both dreams described above. Any comment on or analysis by readers of the dreams I've reported -- you know, your take on "symbolism," theme, underlying meanings, and all of that -- may be inserted in the comment space below, and will be welcomed. Think of it as a chance to exercise your inner psychologist.

                                                                  ------

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