Archive | May, 2019

A Skunk, an Armadillo, and a Sloth

28 May

I dreamed I was a student and couldn’t remember my schedule. Some stuff happened to make me not attend classes–now I can’t remember. Everyone ended up with denim jackets that they decorated in different ways. I don’t remember why, but I tore mine straight down the center back near the entrance to a classroom (I was in the room with many other students). I then put on a different jacket with big pockets and put on a hat, maybe my Himalayan hat, before I went into the hallway.

When I was finally done with all that, I was walking around a wide hallway and passing random people and, still walking, reached for my schedule in my pocket. I had a Dachshund in my pocket or tucked under my arm, so it was hard to get to my schedule.

I stepped through glass double doors into a hexagonal room from which there were various corridors branching off. Other students walked by, and someone may have been doing construction. I realized I had to stop walking if I was going to look at my schedule. So I started reading the piece of paper from my pocket, but it didn’t say anything about my schedule for the rest of the day. I thought I must not have any classes that day.

Next, I was outdoors, in a park. I was approaching picnic tables where students I knew sat. I sat down at one bench, and a friendly little black animal walked over to me. I petted it once–and noticed the white stripes of a skunk on its back. It was definitely a skunk and even smelled like one. Startled, I got up, saying, “Oh, it’s a skunk!” The person sitting at the same table, to my left, got up, and we both walked toward another table, where more people sat. People were laughing and exclaiming about the skunk.

I talked about it, saying I didn’t at first know it was a skunk. I added, “It was so friendly.”

One young blond woman peered at me suspiciously. “You touched your face afterwards?”

Feeling appalled and embarrassed, I tried to remember. “I don’t think so.” I tried to convince myself that I didn’t touch my face after touching the skunk, and I thought about hand sanitizer and didn’t think I had any with me.

Soon a couple of people and I occupied—at least, I stood by it—another picnic bench, just past the first one (where I met a skunk). We were talking, and I put down my bag, jacket, and Indian shawl–also maybe a hat.

An armadillo appeared on the table and started walking toward me.

Someone said, “Don’t pet that, too.”

I backed away, and the armadillo turned into a sloth. It kept picking up my stuff with its long arms, and I kept trying to get my stuff from it. I ended up putting the jacket and all back on.

 

Great—the armadillo has to do with not letting go, not moving on. That’s tied in with the skunk symbolism, in that I have terrible memories of socially making an ass of myself, and the skunk represents repelling people or being afraid of doing so.

Coyote

5 May

On April 27, I had a dream in which I had two Native American friends, one female and one male, and I was helping them move to a city.

At some point in the dream, at least 2 of us were on a dark and urban street. I was trying to figure out exactly where their new address was. There was a lot of writing on a wall–addresses or address numbers were painted on an old brick wall, and I was trying to trace with a finger the exact spot, while a vehicle was parking right there in front of it. There was s strip of pink and purple paint, and I was murmuring the name of the street or apartment: Weatherplace, or something like that.

I dreamed that I had set up a video camera in my bedroom–this bedroom–and I was looking at video footage…and discovered that a baby coyote had been repeatedly curling up and sleeping at the foot of my bed. It was cute, but I figured it was getting in through the skylight, like my cats, and since this was a wild animal, that had to stop.

This evening I went to see a play that had a Native American theme—scenes with Lewis and Clark and modern scenes at Standing Rock. One of the characters was named Coyote…which is also the name of a Native trickster deity.

 

A Dream about…not Being Yourself

3 May

I had a dream about a wealthy and privileged young man from a Middle Eastern country.

He lived in an enormous mansion, maybe a palace—the rooms were so huge—and had a lot of extended family and a bunch of friends.

He was spoiled and arrogant. He thought he could just propose to a young woman, and she’d be eager to marry him…so when she jilted him, he was very arrogant and offended, which of course offended her. It seems to me like he had some clash with Westerners; she may have been a Westerner.

He typically wore a suit of lightweight off-white and beige material. He’d wear a jacket/blazer that was beige, over off-white trousers and shirt or tunic. And maybe sometimes an Islamic prayer hat.

Scenes sometimes alternated with moments when I had the perspective of a writer writing this very same story (which happens a lot in my dreams).

Oh, yes…This young man was famous, and crowds gathered to see him. There was a party where he ccx was expected to appear and give a speech, and people kept inquiring about him. But a young male friend of his showed up and announced that he didn’t feel like attending and giving this speech.

The main character believed that he had to be in a perfectly good mood whenever he was around many people (and that was a huge party). He thought he had to be smiling and cheerful and bubbly in all such situations.

People were very disappointed that he wasn’t at the party, and he learned of their displeasure. He came to realize that what he was doing was inappropriate and selfish, so he showed up at the next party and apologized to everyone (or maybe it was the same party). He explained that he’d always assumed that he was supposed to be some character out of a 1960s movie, not a regular person with deep emotions, not someone who was three-dimensional even in public. He promised he’d never do that again–that he’d need a better reason to not show up at parties.

People cheered and were happy. Lots of people were talking at once, many sitting at extremely long couches in a big, central pit. The young prince sat down on one of those couches and stretched an arm across the back. He seemed relaxed now.

Someone cheerfully mentioned a harem.

 

Awake, I see that this dream was about pretending to be someone you’re not because the real you is unacceptable, at least toward your family and society. That has been a major part of my life since early childhood.