Your Dream Knocks On the Door

The dream says, “Hey there. It’s you I’m talking to.” The dream comes from your less put into a box mind. That alert part of the self is sending you a message. Some call dreams mental garbage. They want to keep a lid on consciousness which is a sign of fear. They have a Pandora’s box approach to knowing who they are.

Dreams offer valuable information. You learned to fear such internal knowing by parents who feared their own. They were silenced before you by unresolved conflicts with their own parent. Rules are rules until you examine and decide whether to follow or disregard them. It becomes a matter of your choosing.

Your unrestricted mind creates a dream which opens your eyes. It tells you what to examine.  Defenses are created in childhood to give us a sense of safety. Whether they should continue operating outside our awareness in adult life is something else. Childhood defenses stick out their mental foot which trips us into childhood. A dream calls attention to what we need to know in order to grow up.

Take the following dream:

I was in a  small, cheap hotel in the hinterlands of India. Went for a walk with some of the locals I had recently met. Chattering and listening to them was a lot of fun. I didn’t pay close attention to how we got to where we were ended up. My memory was of making a right turn outside the hotel, going straight ahead for a while then making a left and walking some more. It seemed to be a simple plan.

So I go for that walk alone the next day. After walking a certain distance straight ahead I turn left and walk some more. Thinking to go back, nothing looks familiar. Did I make yesterday’s right and left? I am confused and scared. I see all kinds of tantalizing sights, beautiful people, a long-haired woman selling pineapple at a stand, a man sitting cross-legged in front of his door, meditating or just looking at the world. I see small churches, religious people coming and going, a very large pond. The people are friendly. One invites me into her house where I meet family members. So much belonging, but I am not one of them.

I ask them for directions but what kind of direction can they give since I cannot remember the name of my hotel. So I walk on. See hump-necked cattle grazing. After a while, I ask another person about where to go and am told to take a dirt path downhill into the jungle. I decide not to go that way. It is too wild and devoid of people. I  keep walking. The people, their temples, their spirit of acceptance is appealing. I cannot stay and cannot leave since I do not know how to go back to my hotel. Stranded.

A dream tends to speak in metaphorical images. Wandering in a wild world seemingly unprepared is a childhood approach to parental hatred. It is the defense of  “unknowing.” How strange one uses ineptness to survive. It elicits parental blows for an impersonal failure rather than doing my best and being attacked for that. Deliberate inadequacy is something to hide behind. I remember that my parents were jealous of any sign of my intellect. My father had to be the best, period. My mother had to psychologically knock me down in order to own me so that I could not leave her. I could only be good at something they both did not understand so I painted as a path they could not follow.

But my writing they could and did evaluate. It was a constant put down. I began to conceal my work with traces of disorder. Being sloppy fit in with their criticism.  My typing was terrible. My paper had fingerprints and other smudges. I did not know that sloppiness was my choice. I lost my work on the subway. “How can you be so stupid” was their refrain. I was lost and stranded by my defense.

This defense came with me to college. Teachers who gotten past their own inner punishing parent said my work was very good. One who really encouraged me said that my work which was wonderfully unique seemed to have been fished out of a toilet bowl. He had not been taken by my disorder and suggested I keep writing.

So here I am an adult desiring to use creativity, probably writing to help our increasingly upset world. My dream of being lost in a foreign jungle due to forgetting where I came from reminds me of my own parent-compressed mind and tells me to that I can choose to be unprepared or not.

When you awaken, do not leap out of bed since movement eliminates memory. Note what you dreamed and see your associations. These will tell you what you need to know. They will help you plan where you want to go and how to get there.

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