2 Dreams: 11.27.14
My original plans for this afternoon and evening took a radical turn when I developed a visual disturbance that became a migraine. Since I could not drive, I went for a walk in the woods instead. Gained some clarity about Things That Need to Change.
Working on redirecting my dismay and unhappiness that I keep getting angry about stuff into appreciating the energy and motivation anger gives me. I’ve remained deeply angry about some events in my past for many years . . . but maybe the awareness of what my Current Self would like to do about those things was mired in permafrost that hadn’t begun thawing until recently.
Anger and Motivation to Do Differently means I’m healing! Finally.
A travel dream. The narrative timeline is choppy and confused.
I’m going to Europe by myself! I had originally planned to go with a (male) friend — I kept delaying figuring out exactly what I wanted to do while there because we were going to travel together. Except that (a) he didn’t respond to my texts, and (b) the day of the flight, he just didn’t show up.
My mother drove me to the airport, and during that car ride, I tried to back out of the whole idea of going, but she wouldn’t let me.
Once I was on the plane (which looked a lot more like a very large airport lounge than the inside of a plane going to Europe), I kept trying to strike up friendly conversations with fellow passengers. I didn’t have much luck though.
So, in my anxiety, I began looking at the documents I had to hand about my trip. From the plane tickets [printed on card stock, by a dot matrix printer], the duration of my stay would be 6 weeks. First stop: Istanbul, Turkey (but for some reason, on the ticket, Istanbul was spelled out in Cyrillic letters, which I had translated before I left). Something about money I’d inherited? That’s how I could afford the trip I think. I had 2 passports. The money I did have was a cashier’s check, also printed on card stock.
I’m going to have to wrangle 42 days’ worth of meals for myself? What on earth could I have been thinking?!?!
Also, how will I get from Istanbul to Western Europe? Where do I need to leave from? Now that my friend isn’t here, what is it I actually want to do while I’m there?
I somehow hadn’t researched . . . anything . . . before leaving. I didn’t know the exchange rate, although I saw signage on board that gave me the impression that 1 Turkish currency unit [Lira] ~ 0.0067 USD. Later, I apparently asked a man about exchange rates; he was dismissive to me, saying “people are losing their investments”.
I didn’t have a purse with me, or (apparently) any checked luggage. As I looked around, I saw that all the other women either had elaborate purses, or purses that were quilted with metallic thread (as a security measure of some sort). All the storage I had was the shallow pockets of my [real-life] jeans.
At some point, I was ‘out on the deck’ of the plane, which was like a garden balcony on a tall building. Cocktail party atmosphere, but of course, I didn’t know anybody. Definitely odd to be exposed to the elements, while at high altitude, but it wasn’t terribly cold. While I was looking around, I happened to look up into the sky just as a white owl flew over the plane. No one else noticed it. It seemed like a good omen of some kind.
I asked a woman from Turkey who had a very complicated purse where I could buy one like it. She said it would be very expensive and I probably couldn’t afford one. I got the impression she was looking at me like an easy mark to rob later. I started to feel like I was going to get mugged or killed while still in the Istanbul airport.
I realized I didn’t know how much money I had with, nor how much money I’d saved up for the trip. I didn’t have an itinerary. I didn’t have places to stay. I didn’t have plans of any sort.
Realized ‘how things had worked out’ meant that I’d have to do the entire trip with no preconceptions, no plans, no nothing. Terrifying prospect, and yet also an opportunity I’ve rarely had.
Bacchanalian atmosphere with the other passengers, right out in the open. Practically an orgy, as people swapped partners, caroused.
At some point, I realized I didn’t remember getting on the plane, or most of the flight (which I know would’ve been very long). I wasn’t sure if I had blacked out, or had just been dissociating.
As the flight was nearing our destination, I somehow discovered a complicated brown leather bag that contained ‘treasures’ I’d forgotten I owned, including soap, and a TV dinner that had probably been in there for months — I threw that away! But there was also a stash of several different gem-encrusted parures. I put one of the necklaces on, partly because I couldn’t think what else to do with it. With no luggage, I was going to have to leave the rest behind.
I tried to somehow ‘rustle up’ at least a purse before leaving the plane. Somehow, I collected a long jacket, and other clothing items (but not a purse).
I could see the city below us as we came in to land. I wanted to take photos with my phone, and send them “back home”. [It wasn’t Twitter or email; I don’t know how it would’ve worked.]
Something with school? I overheard someone talking about a Rhodes Scholar (which was obviously not me).
Found a group of women who were not exiting the plane with everyone else. Tried asking them some questions, but they never looked up at me, nor answered.
I woke up before I got off the plane.
I’m at Gramma’s house. I’m gathering up my stuff that’s been stored there, so I can leave. Everyone is waiting on me. My mother is getting ever more annoyed and impatient, but I keep discovering more and more cool stuff hidden away . . . in the attic, in an overlooked closet, etc.
Beautiful, colorful, ornamental rococo! stuff I’d forgotten was ever mine. And I had no intention of leaving without it!!
NOTES about #1.
When I was much younger, I did actually want to visit Istanbul, but was always warned away from it, along with North Africa, as being “too dangerous” for a lone woman traveler.
This dream seemed like a grab bag of anxieties about everything I’ve never really had to face before, because I’ve previously always been entangled with other people. I haven’t had to make Hard Decisions about my Life’s Trajectory all that much; I just went along with whatever seemed “normal” and “customary” without thinking about why I was doing that hardly at all.
Now, though, I’m setting things in motion that I cannot predict how they might unfold.
Hence, fears about getting mugged or killed. Paranoia about fellow passengers, who were so wrapped up in their orgy or conversation or card games that they never even noticed me.
Why a white owl? Most owls I’ve actually seen have been brown/brownish.
Why two passports? From where?
The brown leather bag that contained the goodies… that seems like it originated from a different persona entirely, stealthily “leaking into” the main character’s fear-based scenario. Soap is useful; a months-old TV dinner, less so (but it would’ve been decent provisions when I first packed it). But the parures are very interesting because they’re clearly compact symbols for treasure. And treasure that I’d forgotten had ever belonged to me…
that’s my long-buried, formerly-disavowed parts, isn’t it? Has to be.
~ Which brings me to NOTES for #2. ~
For years and years, Gramma’s house in a dream was a symbol of My Self. Treasures hidden away in attics and overlooked closets… also has to be parts of me I’ve hidden from myself, for safety.
And now I don’t have to do that anymore. They can come out into the light of day, and we can get reacquainted again!
This . . . feels . . . better than a childhood Christmas + my birthday combined!