Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Break It Down...

Ok, on to the breakin' it down portion of Dream Interpretations with eirekitten. Meow! This is a follow-up to my last blog "Bust Out Your Dream Dictionary" in which I recounted a really weird and comical dream I had earrrrrrly, this morning.

In my past experiences, using most so-called "dream dictionaries" is usually a farcical effort in superstitious futility. Yeah, go figure THAT sentence out. I don't even know what I said. Anyway, the kind of "You dreamed of a crow. You're gonna die at noon tomorrow!" crap is probably written by the same dorks that believe in chain letters. Psh. Really.

On the flip-side I have found some definitions and interpretations of certain symbols that resonate with the dream I had and really, that's the starting point of figuring out what a "story-like" dream means. What is your subconscious trying to tell you? Well, start how you felt when you woke from the dream. My dream this morning? It had all the elements of a Cohen Brothers movie. Dark humor. Funny in a bloody, decapitated kind of way.

So, the dream didn't hold doom-filled emotions for me...it was lighthearted and funny. Which is a VERY good thing. As I like to view life with a sense of humor as much as possible, even in the darkest of times. The sooner I can use humor to get out of a funk, the better off I am.

So, on to the dream.

First of all, as I just said, the dream "felt good." It had a POSITIVE spin to it.

I did look up various symbols on-line and found some interesting connotations that work with what I feel the dream meant:

Good indication that your head and heart are not communicating. Your emotions may be running overboard and you need to stop and take a moment to think about things and where your intense feelings may be taking you. Maybe you have been behaving irrationally and are "losing your head" (mind is most likely). A separated head can mean mind and soul are not in balance or the idea of senseless or thoughtless action, or acting without a sense of responsibility. (Well, no shit. I've known this for months. Go ahead and read my "Gag Order" blog from May. You'll see.). This symbol may ask us where in our lives our emotions and logic are not in balance and invites us to rejoin the areas of our life that seem separate or disjointed. (This could be where my need to "reattach" my head makes a lot of sense! The whole pun of "running around like a chicken with it's head cut off" or "I've lost my mind" or "gotta get my head on straight" reallllly applies here.)

I couldn't find much relevant about a vase. Other than the vase symbol can mean the idea of containment or restraint. (yep....practicing LOADS of restraint daily).

I mentioned that part of my dream took place by a pool. I didn't know why it mattered but it did. Therefore it does. Sooo, I discovered that a pool of water can mean the context of your life, meaning the settings and situations within which your life takes place – your "world". Can also be a huge, deep area that you feel holds secrets. A calm body of water can represent peacefulness or relaxation. (I now recall that the guy in my dream was cleaning the pool – I think – so...that's pretty cool...a big part of my life getting cleaned up...)

Self-awareness, examination of self, looking inward. (Hmmmmmmmmmm)

Life force, life energy or the essence of humanity. My bleeding can mean I feel weakened or tired emotionally, mentally, or physically. (Well. How 'bout all three?) or you feel something is sapping your energy or time or attention. (Yes, yes.... aaaaaand.... yes.)

Thinking too hard (no effing way!) overwhelmed, a problem or challenge or complication.

Abundant nourishment for the mind, body, emotions or soul – or a desire for it. (I'll take door #2 Bob).

Can represent support, nurturing, healing or the idea of responsibility or authority over others. (So, what if the bitch refused to help? Um, like she did???)

Symbolizes opportunities, secrets or responsibilities and may indicate locking away feelings and emotions. To dream of "finding" a keychain is lucky and means you may soon have a breakthrough in a real-life situation. (I only include that because I really, really, really, really want that.....)

(Ok...lots of different takes on dead people...) dreaming of dead people can represent an area of your life that has "died." (The fact that the dead people were a bride and groom is so flippin' overwhelmingly obvious to me that I really don't need to look up the interpretation...)

Only thing I can think of is that he represents music...

Clearly, I've been going through a lot in the last few months. Lots and lots and lots of disappointments. Lots of pressure to do things like, oh, I don't know...save my house! Deal with a Gemini-influenced ex! Go bankrupt! Keep my job! Help my parents. Raise my kids. Fall in love and get my heart broken to smithereens. I've been unfocused in all areas of my life, acted irrationally, irresponsibly and selfishly in a few areas, less than elegantly in others. I've been overwhelmed by so much lately. So, clearly, I've "lost my mind"! And, as a result of going through all this stuff, I have done a crapload of introspection, writing, crying and praying. I'm still processing the "death of my marriage" and, lately, the death of romantic hopes. My fervent wish is that my attempt to "reattach" my head is a subconscious identification of my ability to finally get my head on straight. Get my mind cleared....clean out the areas of my life that cause discomfort, and once again feel peace and serenity. Maybe reaching out for help and having the helper reject me...maybe that means the ability to make things alright really lies within me, and within my relationship with God, that I've relied a lot on others for support, which is perfectly fine, yet the answers are with me and what I know to the core of my being... my "God Gut". And maybe if I continue on the path that I've just stepped back onto, getting my head on straight...the situations going on in my life will also straighten out. That and the fact that it all had a humorous spin....like I said, humor is integral to my survival...no matter how mad or depressed or sad I get....humor and music self-reflection and willingness to find solution are keys to the freedom of happiness for me.

Bust Out Your Dream Dictionary

I've had a lifetime of intriguing dreams. Many of them are odd, as you would expect, but they all have had beginnings, middles, and ends. They are comprehensive, regardless of their esoteric symbols and imagery. And most always there is a story in there...a cinematic note to my lowly, earthly self from my "higher self". I've often been able to derive many important messages from my dreams that have helped me through situations going on around and in my life.

But after having two kids my dreams kind of faded away. It's not that I stopped dreaming, it's just that I was so dead tired that I stopped remembering them.

So, when I wake up remembering one of my "epic" dreams in total, I have to write it down. Ergo this note. Aha!!

Today's blog brought to you by the subconscious mind of Kristen, very, VERY early this morning:

It began with the fact that my head was severed. Never one to let small matters stand in my way (I like to think), I promptly smushed my detached head (no King Missile jokes please) down on to the stump of my neck, aligning all the things that needed to be aligned, and held it in place by putting a big, bulbous crystal flower vase over my head. (Because doesn't that just make sense? *psh*)

I walked around looking like the star of some 50's Grade-B Sci-Fi flick. I also was very careful not to make any sudden movements, lest my head started to slip-n-slide, or, worse, fall off.

Despite my care, I lost my head. (Not unusual in my life, I must say.) However, I went about my business of doing errands and picking my daughter up from preschool (which is NOT the norm, as I work full time) and it was perfectly ok for me to walk around headless, greeting 5-year olds and chatting with teachers.

But I needed to put my head back on.

(Now...where did I put that? It was.... tsk... It was here JUST a minute ago.... *searching, patting pockets, patting head...oops, nope, haha! silly me...*

Ohhhhhhh! Now I remember!)

I went to the home of a guy who had my head. And the vase. (Thank goodness for THAT!) Why he had them, I don't know. Who he was, I don't know. I have the impression that we were seeing each other but he was busy cleaning the backyard (the pool specifically) like he was expecting someone special...and was kind of in a hurry. I felt a wee bit hurt, but really, under the circumstances, I wouldn't be attracted to a headless significant other either and couldn't blame him for moving on. I really couldn't imagine him wanting to kiss me...especially with the vase between us. Or even without the vase...the slightest bit of lippy pressure and spliiish...my head would slide to and fro.

Anywhoo... I was more concerned with finding my head. All this took place in his backyard with a pool. I don't know the point of that, but it's a detail, so it's here.

He pointed to a little building where my head was. As I walked in, I caught a view of myself in a full length mirror. There I was in all my glory: nice shirt, pants, holding my purse...a body with a bloody gaping wound above my shoulders where my head WASN'T. (Note: The clothes I was wearing were...GAH!...like...a 45-year old frumpy house-mother! I was actually wearing a BLOUSE and SLACKS! Screw the head, just kill me now.)

The vague thought that "THAT doesn't seem right" entered my mind...wherever that was. I also realized that although things that day had seemed normal to me, I wondered if I actually permanently traumatized the children and teachers I interacted with.

(*Hello! What? What's with all this silly kicking and screaming. Why are you catatonic honey? Oops, sorry, just dripping a bit...here, I have a wipey..HEY! Come back!! You've...you've got RED on you!*)

I picked up my head, smushed it back in place with the manky vase, and realized some important things:

1. I couldn't walk around with a vase on my head forever. It was hot, beginning to smell and it was hard to see as my breath kept fogging it up.

2. How on earth am I able to do all these things if my important bits and pieces aren't attached to each other?

3. I couldn't live much longer if I didn't get my head reattached. (The term "No shit Sherlock" is, I think, appropriate here.)

I had to find someone to sew my head back on. Besides, I was beginning to get a headache. And the squishy parts where the two halves of my neck met were starting to get oozy. And I was turning a bit grey.

Securing my space-vase, I naturally headed (no pun intended) to a banquet. (Because isn't that what you do? I don't know about you, but I do occasionally turn to food for comfort.)

Anyway, I meandered until I found a woman who was a nurse. I pursued her all through the hall, repeatedly asking her to please help me reattach my head and wondering why she was being so rude and cold. She was very busy trying to get drunk and darted around ducking in and out of pockets of people to avoid my swivel-headed, vase-face – creepy really – pleading. (I don't think I held my arms out in front of me nor dragged my left foot...no, don't think so, but it is possible that is what SHE saw.)

I followed her into a small room, at which point I was stopped by a security guy. Clearly this was a private affair and he was just doing his job keeping a bloodied-up lady with a vase on her slippy head from crashing the party.

But no. No, he did not detain me. Instead, he shoved a little plastic baggie in my hand. I saw the baggie held a small commemorative keychain.,but I can't remember what it looked like. I looked up at the blue tablecloth-covered tables set in a u-shape and realized this was a reception line of sorts...kind of like a reception/book-signing. My harried nurse was at the head of the line shaking some guy's hand. On the inside of the U I saw a sullen bride in all her regalia, sitting limply behind a stack of wedding videos. (Is anyone surprised the stack of videos were the video case I have from MY wedding?)

As I proceeded up the line, I shook the hand of the gloomy groom (really, neither of them were at all happy. Having gone through two marriages, I completely understand) who was actually Travis Barker (Blink 182) and thought "He doesn't look happy, and he's kind of pasty. And sort of glowing. Oh...that's because he's DEAD!" He did look crappy, although neatly dressed in his wedding white skater hat, perfectly askew, his white and black graphic tee and his black dickies. Ah, Trav...always trying to make a buck, even in death. They were promoting their wedding by selling videos and giving away trinkets. (So romantic! So "forever!" So....reality T.V.)

I finally caught up to my nurse who was slugging one back at the bar. As she turned to give me a look of complete annoyance/dread, my alarm went off.

So, I never, technically, did get my head reattached. Is that bad?

Next blog – Making sense of all this crap!

This is good stuff people!! :)