California Dreamin'

Or just dreaming anyway.  Wow, weird, weird, weird dreams this week.  Quite the cast of characters too.  I saw a bunch of Mom and Dad (it's fun to get a chance to see Mom once in a while, since she died a couple years back).  Eric hopped in here and there (wacko... I've only had one dream with him in it in my entire life).  Judy and Chelsea and Kayleen, Debby, Robert and DeeDee, Nyasha and Shante of course...  Visits to Victoria and a ranch and my actual home (which I've never been in in a dream, but then, I'm not there now, so maybe that's why).  And although I've written bunches of the information down, I have no idea what to do with it.

I have little faith in my discernment (see the blog by that title).  Whether representational or literal, do I go 180 degrees in determining what the information means?  Or do I just enjoy the movie quality of a separate aspect of my existence?  What would Carl Jung say?  Maybe if I asked, he'd hop into one of ‘em and do a session or two with me.

I won't risk unveiling the reality that is me by going through any of the current ones.  I have to keep ya'all  guessin' a bit. But I'll tell you one of my classic dreams, and ye who analyze will get a big kick out of it.  I was pregnant, ya, not in the dream.  So in sleep (and probably in reality), Eric was away at work.  I birthed the babies, multitudes of ‘em, and they were infant snakes (if you know ANYthing about dreams at all, you know that snakes are phallic, yay!  I have a really good snake dream from my teen years, but I digress).  I tried my hand at mothering the little suckers, but one by one they befell horrific deaths (like falling off the sofa or drowning in the toilet).  By the time Eric was to return from work, I was pretty perplexed to have killed the lot of them.  I wasn't too disturbed by it all in my dream self... more puzzled at what the Dad might think of my terrible Momming skills.  Truly, this is the classic stuff of pregnant dreaming.  Somehow, when my real children hit the planet, I managed to mother them well enough to get them to near adult form (at this point 16 and 17 and a half years of success).

I laughed about that dream on the day of its occurrence.  Even then,  I could see that it was "fear animated".  Perhaps that is how I should look upon the collection in my journaling, just the casting of emotion and indecision onto a movie screen.  Time will tell.

Happy Dreamin'!