I have always loved to go to sleep at night, as I look forward to my dreams. My night travels have always seemed so much more lively, interesting, and exciting than my waking life. Not that I have had a boring life, compared to some! I do regret not being a more regular recorder of my own dream life, though I have always kept sketchbooks of some kind.
This morning, I woke reluctantly, emerging from a highly complex and interesting dream. It was constructed in two parts, and, unfortunately, the first part was shredded, leaving only small fragments in my memory. The impression that remains with me was that I was on a ship-like structure on dry land. A guruesque writer was holding court in the ship, with female groupies vying for his literary criticism and attention. I remember being in the limelight at one point, my long hair somehow representing the glow of fame and validation. While leaving the “ship”, a blond young woman whose pale locks had been inexpertly shorn from her head, particularly brutally on the sides, remarked that the time spent in the light of fame is always temporary. She obviously was on the side of the Fall. I immediately understood that her lost locks manifested her fall from grace as well as her wisdom on the subject of earthly success.
In the second part of the dream, I found myself walking, barefoot, in a strange city. I was holding four articles of clothing in my arms. These were my only possessions. I recall a hand-knitted cable patterned light grey sweater, made of a soft fuzzy yarn on the top of the pile. I noted that the apartment buildings were made of red brick, about five or six stories tall, many with ivy growing on the walls. The colors in this part of the dream were warm. To my right, as I chose a direction to walk in, not knowing anything about this city, I saw a thin elderly Asian woman wearing glasses and sitting in a lounge chair on the front walk of one of the apartment buildings. Strangely, the buildings and street appeared slightly shabby from a distance, as if a fine red dust coated the road and buildings. The elderly woman called out to me, asking me if I wanted a job, her gaze assessing my condition in life. I approached her, and she got up, leading me to the front door of the building. There, she had me understand that this was a home of some wealth and means, and she asked me to wipe my bare feet well on the mat. I lifted my right foot and looked at the sole, which was darkened with dirt – but not red dirt!
A slender young to middle aged woman with dark hair piled on her head in a sort of chignon and pale skin, with large dark eyes appeared. She was wearing a long dress – almost Victorian, but still modern. We went upstairs, and she showed me the “job”. She had a son who was dressed like a small child of perhaps five, with patterned feet pajamas. The boy was very strong and very wild, behaving as if there were no rules in the house. I observed him at play with another person through the wide doorway, as the two wreaked mayhem. The room seemed to be full of contraptions or furniture that was overturned and transformed into a booby trap that filled the room. The mother appeared to be helpless. I spoke to her in French, even though she spoke to me in English, telling her that the boy needed clear boundaries. The boy and his companion disappeared somewhere. The woman then showed me a special ‘doll house’ that contained perfectly scaled furnishings. It was beautiful, modern, and highly detailed. A real house in miniature. There was a small card in the living room that read: “To my darling husband whom I adore”. I admired the tiny lamps, chairs, tables, trying to see everything…
Soon after, I woke up. As I reflected on the dream, I thought it was funny how the dark-haired woman seemed to give me credit and authority as a person knowledgable about setting boundaries and raising boys. Yet I did seem confident in that part of the dream. Also, how the mother and the elderly Asian woman immediately hired me for the job, somehow knowing that I was qualified despite my bare feet and few possessions. The dream clearly reflected a transition and transformation in my life, as I have recently changed my way of looking at life and what I value. I no longer fear poverty or feel that I must do a certain kind of work in order to survive. I am working on devoting myself to the arts of writing and painting without attachment to the approval of others or by society, thus working towards eliminating anxiety related to creative activity. I feel that this dream was very significant for me.