Sunday, March 29, 2009


Where's the dream interpreter when you need one? Doesn't matter. I'll write it down. I'm writing within 15 minutes of having the dream; enough time to use the bathroom, make a pot of coffee and call to a friend I'll be at the church to help cook right after I write down my dream. I'm going to include my own interpretation or "hmmmmm....." thoughts in italics as they come up. First, a note to self: I know I was "gnashing my teeth" last night because my jaw (and teeth) are aching. This is not normal for me. It's only happened one other time that I can remember: in the weeks prior to and during "my time away" last September. It's been almost a year since that happened, right around my birthday. Birthday is coming up again, September 26th. Also, I am fasting, going for a day for every year of my life. On day six.

So now, here's the dream: I am with a lover, who resembles my ex-husband. We are "doin' the do" so to speak, enjoying ourselves all over the setting we are in which includes an outdoor area where he has seen fit to prepare a meal for me, but I'm fasting so I only pretend to eat. I remember asking at one point, "let's go out!" feeling quite mischievious, and wanting to frolick. He said no. (Odd. It must not have been my ex - he's always down for a teenage escapade. But who then? I don't remember feeling anything for this person, except the enjoyment of the flesh. I guess it wouldn't be right to describe him as a lover. Love? Just finished reading the Song of Solomon - which is the only book in the bible I've read so far with great resentment and contempt. Love? Ahhgh! Who needs it?! I got God. But that is another issue for another blog. It's mentioned here as conscious recall of how the dream might be related to seeing this person as my lover. Oh, I guess it's also important to note that I haven't "frolicked" physically since my ex was my husband, last December.)

We're back inside, he's in the kitchen (definitely not my ex-husband) and for whatever reason I'm on balcony? Has to be. If it's not balcony, it's an edge of some sort, otherwise it would seem as if I'm climbing the walls. (I've heard those phrases before"on the edge", "climbing the walls" - usually indicating frustration, anxiety, an eagerness for something to happen other than what is happening at the moment.) I'm standing on something high enough to look out the window. The blinds are open and I can see outside. There appears to be an active night life happening. I hear him tell me to shut the blinds as I am, apparently, naked. Next thing I know we're outside. There's a dark area with other people standing around next to a shack. I see a man pulling out with his car stereo blasting, hooting and hollering, grinning with gold teeth. Obviously he's had a good night. I tell my lover, "look - see what we've been missing?" We walk down a hill and into a food vending area. The vendors are packing up for the night. Some offer food but we are.....that is, I am carrying our own. But it's not food, it's an oversized briefcase, thin and not completely sealed. I can see some of the contents coming out. Utensils? We get to a washing area, the cafeteria kind where people drop off their dirty dishes in a rack and the dishwasher moves'em down to the next step in the assembly line.

Then my lover and I are separated as I walk into an enclosed space of some sort, about the size of a workplace cubby. There is water, a pool of it, I am trying to avoid. Suddenly I see a couple trying to negotiate the same problem. It's Lucille Ball and Ricky Ricardo! Or their likeness. So their presence makes this problem entertaining at least. I manage to leap over the water onto a ledge. I turn back to warn my lover to be careful, but then the ledge starts to separate from the landing. I can see the steel bars, the kind that hold to slabs of concrete together; my slab is separating from the other slab. I jump to the other side and now the scene changes.

I'm in the kitchen of my old church. There is much going on, preparation for something. (This is related to what I've planned to do today: help my friend cook for Rally Sunday.) My friend isn't there, although she's the one assigned to manage preparation. Suddenly, I feel something in my mouth. (This is a reoccurring theme, having something in my mouth. It's a vile sensation. It can't be spit out. I have to scrape it out of my mouth. And no matter how much I get out, there's always more to replace it as soon as I get a handful out. The best description of the unknown substance is this: it's similar to what you see a cat cough up. Thick, regurgitated mush. Note to self: needed to know how to spell regurgitate, got on-line and the first site to come up was, "world of warcraft" - though at first I thought it said world of witchcraft. Anyway, it's noteworthy to mention here that I heard a word from the Lord while praying a few weeks ago. I think so anyway. He'll correct me if I'm wrong. But I heard I was to be a soldier. Soldier? Me, who hates war and conflict? Seeks peace at all cost - even if the cost is compromise? Gulp.)

Back to cat mush. So I'm trying to find a towel to deposit my first round of yuck, discreetly so as not to raise concern with all the folks in the kitchen. I find the towel and as soon I get rid of it, another materializes in my mouth. I know how this works by now, so I quietly excuse myself. Then I'm on the phone listening to "OJ" (not Simpson) but a woman from my old church whose name is not OJ, but this is how she's chosen to identify herself in my dream. She's asking me where my friend is. I don't know, but I tell her I can't stay in the kitchen right now (I'm scraping gunk out of my mouth.) She says sh'se on her way, then her husband breaks into the conversation to add his two cents, but I can't remember what he said.

Finally, my friend shows up, she's brought her teenager and her teenager's friend, and a big black lab. The dog is all over the kitchen. I notice then that the busy work being done in the kitchen is clean up. Major clean-up, like pull out the cabinets and get the dirt behind the dirt kind of cleaning. My friend is flustered, the dog is everywhere and the people are getting annoyed with my friend for bringing the dog. I tell her daughter, "Hey why don't you and your friend take the dog for a walk." Problem solved. Except I still can't help out, because the gunk is still forming in my mouth.

I leave and walk my way to a pier? It's a hub of activity. There's a river. Across the river are logs, like a lumber yard of uncut wood. Large trunks stacked and waiting to go through the mill. I go to the edge (again with the edge) scraping hairballs out of my mouth into the water. People are looking at me. Then I see a car drive by into the water. But as it enters, these tracks appear, like railroad tracks. I think to myself. "I'm at the crossroads." The car makes it safely to the other side so I make the same attempt.

Suddenly I'm in this large, open room. There's a circle of figures in the shadows and light in the center of them. I see a ghastly figure coming towards me, it looks like the knarly, green wicked witch from a fantasy movie. I back away, but then think, "I'm only seeing it as the spirit inside me sees" convinced that I am possessed by an evil spirit. I continue to rationalize what I'm seeing. "Evil would see Christ as a horrible, ugly presence. So that must mean that this anorexic ogre is really The King." That last thought transforms the beast into light. I fall on my knees. All I see then is his feet and light around me. I'm crying, begging that He free me, make this evil spirit leave my body. He touches my shoulder. And He's telling me something. Of course, when I wake up, I have no idea what He said.

Same thing happened when I was younger, seven or eight years old, and had my first Jesus dream. He was standing on my toilet seat. All I saw was his outline within the light and his feet. He said something to me. To this day I can't remember what it was. I guess it's in my subconscious somewhere. If I need to know, it will be revealed at the right time. For now I'm left with ??????????

I've always been a dreamer. I have the most vivid dreams. Complete movies, in color, and with exquisite detail. I can breathe under water. I can fly. I've had dreams that come true the very next day, though not often enough to be of any help (or win the lottery.) And then there are the terror visions. Those are..... well, terrifying. It's my mind, I guess. The blessing, (or curse) of an active imagination is dreams that are as real, and sometimes way more interesting, than real life.

I read a book once. It was about this guy who lived two lives, both were equally real. One was his day - awake - life and the other his night - dream - life. The conflict of the story was that whatever happened in one affected the other. If he died in the dream world, he'd never wake up in real life. It brings to mind my #1 favorite movie of all time, Waking Life. There are so many chapters in this film that I love. Here's one, it's linked to another one of my fav's but it's to long to blog here. If what you like what you read below, click on it and take the time to digest another.

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