If only dreams were really a roadmap for the binary relationship that is the soul and consciousness to meet. I would like to think the confluence of this event is the moment we evolve into a better us. But finding a defining connection is like finding the mythical city of El Dorado. Although I am inclined to agree with Research Professor of Psychology and Sociology at the University of California, Santa Cruz, G. William Domhoff that dreams most likely serve no real purpose, I still want to believe the thoughtful interpretation of dreams could at least lead to hope. And, I think it better reflects if done by you, the dreamer, instead of relying on others to interpret them for you.
No one is more in need of a roadmap than me. I often feel as if I am adrift somewhere out at sea with no place in sight. I could use a lifeline—anything! The mind is so vast, like the sea, yet so constricting in both the space it’s in and in its ability to solve the personal dilemma that is happiness: it is vast when the world makes sense, but suffocating when it doesn’t. And you can’t help but wonder if dreams solve that happiness.
Because I seldom remember dreams, when I have recurring dreams I have to assume there’s some powerful connection to it. This repetition is unusual in my life.
In my case, it is moot: if I dream, I remember little. But when I do, from the minute I wake up, gather my sense about me, set foot on the floor...my dreams have begun to evaporate. I have a high bed (noooh, not a bunk bed) and sometimes it seems as if I am diving feet first to get down. But in that split second, it’s remarkable if I retain any part of a dream by the time my feet touch the floor. I can’t think and get out of bed at the same time.
Imagine achy joints, concentrating solely on getting out of bed, still groggy, trying to keep my little bubble of a dream from going puff!—mornings are a big task for me and dreams have become elusive because of it. I am always surprised the momentum—as I jump off the bed—has not taken me right through a window next to my side of the bed.
And, there’s nothing more undignified than stumbling in your boxers, disheveled, on the fringes of the stream of consciousness, trying to keep an essence of a dissolving dream, while your wife and 5-year-old looks in bewildered at such a sight. Well, my son just laughs. Nevertheless, it is not a pretty nor sobering sight wrangling with the plumes of a dream quickly fading into the morning air.
But, occasionally, a nugget of information lags long enough to get tangled in my web of reality—and from ever passing into oblivion.
See, Cinderella refers to dreams as “wishes from the heart” and are, in my opinion, the breadcrumbs for the dreams of flight escaping our subconscious. They want to give you something good even if from nightmares. You must find the best possible tools to construct a positive interpretation or something you can live with. It was also Freud who suggested that the content of dreams is related to wish-fulfillment, and to my understanding, it reaffirms the possible connection between the different definitions of a dream with an answer right down the middle.
Dreams are two different elements but possibly connected: one compels us to keep getting up every time we fall and the other one provides us with the tools to get up and craft our dream as best we can.
Dreams can be mysterious, terrifying, or even bizarre—mainly bizarre. But the fact that dreams can be so complex and compelling, is enough reasons to believe there must be something profound within them ready for interpretation.
As my only lifeline, I want dreams to be a rationalization on my own terms. Of course, I have to confide in the experts such as Freud, Miller, Vanga, and Nostradamus for meaning to key elements, to have the tools I need. But if dreams are a roadmap to the soul, then perhaps it’s best to mold you interpretations to fit a good dream, your dream right into your soul. Be the cartographer.
Although, sometimes I wonder why I have them at all. It’s no wonder I scurry in the mornings (scaring even my dogs) when I have a lingering tale from the subconscious ready to disappear. My dream journal is flimsy compared to my everyday pages. It is why I have to make sure I get something from them when I do.
There has to be some deep meaning behind the cryptic messages, and if you reasonably make it fit your script—then you have found hope.
Besides, it’s fun. The dream is yours and merits only a sense of understanding that only you should attach to it. Who better at attributing positive meaning than the dreamer? Whether it’s silly or profound, it will mean something to you.
Take, for instance, a recent dream of mine. While I don’t remember the all details in the dream (naturally), I do remember having a gun in a briefcase. With the gun topic being a focal point of today’s environment, it’s no surprise it filtered right into my subconscious. I look for definitions—and while we are immediately attracted to the grim possibilities of an interpretation—I try to avoid them and define the dream by the most positive explanation in the dictionary.
For this item, clairvoyant Vanga says, “Self with a gun: ready to assert one’s will over the subject. You are encouraged to take action about something and not remain complacent.” Then there is the common interpretation that says, “To see a gun in your dream, symbolizes aggression, anger, and potential danger.” There is no need to reflect on the negative aspect of this element, especially if life is already one negative reflection. Instead, it’s best to look for the positive side, apply it, and believe change will come—if you take the reins.
If my life does not appear to shift in a positive direction, and I remain mired in the hopelessness, then the dream professed nothing new—it served no real purpose.
So here I am with the gun in a briefcase. I am walking down these stairs leading me to a parking lot. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I met an older woman in a pink business suit. She is also holding a briefcase. And right next to the stairs, there is a clear deep body of water (the clearest I have ever seen). The woman approaches me, opens her briefcase, and pulls out a small inflatable raft and drops it on the pond. Unemotional, she continues up the stairs without a second look at the raft, leaving it behind as if meant for me.
According to common interpretation, which in this case, differed from the other dream experts such as Nostradamus, Miller, or Valda, it says that “The raft is an image connected with the spiritual transitions we must make in life. It is less secure than the idea of a boat. To see a raft in your dream indicates that you have not built a firm foundation for yourself. There is still much work ahead. To dream that you are floating on a raft suggests that you are drifting through life, not knowing where you are headed. You are confused about your purpose and direction in life. If we’re feeling lost and can see no respite, then we may dream of a raft, a solid yet impermanent structure beneath us.”
My life is always about finding my place in life, but also about finding my center, the reason I belong.
Much of my life has been less than fruitful and it makes me yearn for a purpose. I love that in this dream the raft was smaller than usual because that is truly the margin of error I have for everything I do now or in whatever future prospect. I feel like I am making a curious transition by doing a blog without a determined purpose, but if the construct of my dream has me holding a gun on a small raft, then I think no matter how unconventional my blog is I have to assert my will with such an impermanent structure beneath me. If not, the spiritual journey is more satisfying than this reality.
It’s a worse proposition to go through life knowing there’s nothing I can do if I have no recourse. If I see a small raft in my dreams, it is a biased sign it was deemed to be that way for me. I am not sitting on a luxurious yacht, but on a raft, and I must stand to look ahead. But at least the waters were clear, which offered comfort in its transparency—but clearly, I have no room to be wrong.
I guess I could add as additional subjects of interpretation the parking lot, the stairs, the pink color, which incidentally represents the love of God and the added possibility of God as a caring and nurturing woman. She is perhaps a good safety measure. But the gun and raft are strong indicators of how small the margin of error is in my life, which is something I must alone deal with. I am no Nostradamus, Miller, Freud, or Vanga, but I give myself hope if all the attributes I find are molded into the dreams I want to live in—and with no regrets.
Tell me, how do you interpret your dreams?
Photo by Geran de Klerk on Unsplash
Beautiful! Nicely said. I have too many dreams and some are more scary than others but I agree. It’s all how you as the dreamer interpret the dreams and apply them in your life. Nicely done.