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5 Dreams: 12.6.14

December 8, 2014

{The 12.4.14 dream in the last post is the only dream from my retreat that I remember at all. Everything else was fragments of fragments.

Friday night, after returning home, I slept for 12 hours. Woke up, recalling at least parts of 5 dreams.}



I was hanging out with S [someone I follow on Twitter] and his daughters. “Little girl dresses” in pretty colors were somehow important, and I was very excited about them.



Little Gregg and his new girlfriend came to dinner at my parents’ house, where I was apparently living. He was happy with her and his current living situation.

In the dream, he’d been my lover long ago, so saying good-bye forever was a bit bittersweet for me, despite being happy for him. Although he barely seemed to recall that we’d ever been even friends, never mind anything else.

My mom wanted to keep both of them around as long as possible, even though LG kept saying they really had to get going. I remonstrated with her, saying that, if they had to go, we should let them go.

I wondered to myself: now that so-called Big Greg is long out of our lives, maybe Little Gregg can go back to just being Gregg? (I didn’t get a chance to suggest that to my mother though.)

As they were heading to the door, I asked if he was “still in Wood Dale, or the place he’d moved to ‘near Lisle’ “? He allowed that he was currently “near Lisle”. I then asked him which school he’d met the girl at, and what their further plans were, but he wouldn’t answer any of those questions. He was impatient to be gone.

I hugged him a few times, feeling pretty choked up and trying not to show it. Then I let him go.



I was most of the way up a forested mountain. There was a dusty path to take me up the remaining part to the summit, where I was planning to get naked, for some sort of ritual purpose (maybe just communing with the spirits of place). There were no other human beings around, which was exactly how I wanted it.

As I walked slowly up the path, two girls I knew overtook me. They somehow figured out what I intended to do, and raced up toward the top, preventing me from performing my ritual in solitude. They were noisy and obnoxious too.

I turned around, to head back down. As I looked into the valley far below, I saw figures (as if through a telescope). A tapir with a person riding its back. Then, having shed its rider, the tapir leapt high into the air, and did backflips and somersaults, apparently for the sheer joy of it.

I was captivated, transfixed, for who knows how long. Eventually, though, I realized… the girls are going to come back down, and they’re going to want to mess with me some more. How can I prevent that?

I thought about changing myself into a tree along the path, so they wouldn’t see me. But instead, I changed myself into a tapir.

When the girls came along just a few minutes later, they did not recognize me, and continued down. Leaving me to jump for joy on my own schedule. J



I wandering through my parents’ new big house, looking for a quiet place I could write. My own room was not available for some reason.

I walked into my brother D’s room, which looked suitable. But he came along, and chased me out.

I had a brief encounter with my father, who was wearing very large eyeglasses with bright red rims. I had some difficulty with my own eyeglasses, which weren’t working properly. (Mine had pink rims.)



I came upon a large body of water, with waves. After a long moment, I recognized it as Chesapeake Bay, and felt a rush of love and care and, “wow, I’ve missed you!”

Later, I was actually on the water (or maybe over the water?), and noticed there were way too many commercial boats and ships crowding everything. Then I looked down into the water itself, and it was … totally clear, all the way to the bottom. I knew that was a really bad sign, signifying that most of the water critters were dead or gone.

I felt a strong urge to do something about that situation.




To my retreat, I brought a book on how to sew dresses for little girls, which I bought from a bookstore near P’s office. If the retreat had been more tangibly-creative the way I expected, I had planned to look at the book for inspiration of garments to make for myself, in the spirit of the pretty “little girl” dresses I didn’t have when I was little.

S is one of those modern dads on Twitter that seems to genuinely enjoy spending time with his daughters. I like reading about the stuff these dads do, but it’s also kinda painful.

But in the dream, I was concentrating on what I could do for myself.



Little Gregg, the real person, was more a FWB than a lover. He had a “bright and bonny” spirit, and I loved him a lot, but I could see we were not destined to be together long-term — our lives were just too different.

The new girlfriend in the dream was interesting because she was kind of plain, but smart and hard-working. They were building a solid life together, and she had a lot to do with that.

This farewell dinner was happy and hopeful and amiable, but not really friendly anymore, because we were, after all, past all that. This was just… tidying up loose ends.

In the dream, I actually kind of shouted at my mother to let Gregg and the girl go. Then I apologized for shouting, because I’d just wanted to get her attention, and she was in full spate. But I insisted that they should be allowed to determine when they needed to go.

Since we were friends 25 years ago, dream-Gregg and his girlfriend maybe are other aspects of me that I haven’t been using or needing and now they’ve been called up so they can be released. No drama, no histrionics, just a gentle good-bye.



Oh, this one was fun!

I did a similar type of ritual as a teenager in Europe, but I only went topless. There was no one else around.

I’m ready to not be invisible anymore (tree by the side of the path).

And what’s not to love about a tapir doing acrobatic flips, high up in the air? It was the coolest thing.



I never seem to dream about either of the 2 houses my parents (as a married couple) have actually lived in. I have never once thought that a dream about a house my parents live in ~ to a dream about me (the way I do think, if & when I dream about Gramma’s house). And yet, there must be some reason why I dream about living with my parents.

In the last few weeks, dreams about them always seem to be set in large new houses that they’ve just moved into, too. So the rooms are largely unfamiliar.

But if the house is a metaphor for current-me, now that I’m growing and changing, and somewhat unfamiliar to myself, why are my parents in it?

I’ve rarely owned eyeglass rims in pretty colors as I need such a strong prescription (and therefore, heavy lenses) that I have to go with serviceable colors and styles. Kinda like the orthopedic shoes I had to wear as a kid for my flat feet — styles that might be too dowdy for a grandmother, and always only offered in the ugliest colors.

So I’ve never owned pink glasses. But… the shade of pink they were is part of Amelia [my synesthesia’s wyxzi of joy/delight/whimsy]. Could also be a reference to “rose-colored glasses”, but since they were somehow out of order, maybe that means I’m no longer using magical thinking? I come by my joy/delight/whimsy honestly [with the appropriate shade of pink]?



I think this is the first time I’ve dreamed about Chesapeake Bay as itself. Either my subconscious, or Chesapeake Bay, are fed up with me taking so long at figuring out how to do something. (Which I have been trying to figure out since we moved to Maryland in 2008.)

I need to just start… something.

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