“You can shoo people away in real life, but not when they force their way in through the dream door.”
― Donna Lynn Hope
Had a dream the other night. Nightmare, really.
I dreamt I was in my home, not alone – I knew many others were there also, in other rooms, unseen – when a largish yellow-haired mailman came in carrying a package. Somehow I knew it was a bomb. I tried to wrest it from him, and he and I began to grapple. He would feint this way and that, I couldn’t pin him down (he kept changing directions, keeping me off-guard) but eventually we grasped each other and I couldn’t escape his clutches and the bomb was ticking away. As he smiled maniacally I knew my father was just outside, and I yelled, “HELP!” Apparently, I actually yelled outloud, woke my wife who then woke me, asking, “Are you alright?” I assured her I was, just had a bad dream. She drifted back to sleep as I grew more awake, recalling the dream, trying to make some sense of it.
I suppose people have been analyzing dreams since forever. The earliest known written evidence dates from the 18th century BC in the Epic of Gilgamesh. Today, various schools of psychology have offered theories about the meaning and purpose of dreams. Some people interpret dream content according to the Freudian theory of dreams, but his belief that dreams are rooted in unfulfilled sexual desires has caused it to fall out of favor (and I can assure you, wrestling with an overweight blond dude has never been remotely a fantasy of mine, and I suspect Freud had repressed sexual issues of his own that he justified by believing everyone else does too.)
However, people are more likely to view dreams as confirming their waking beliefs and desires and to be more meaningful than dreams that contradict their waking beliefs and desires.
The individual elements in the dream are often a composite of wholly unrelated things that seem to fit together yet make a dream that has no apparent sense. Here are some things that equate to my dream’s elements:
• Earlier that evening, we watched on TV the news about more of Trump’s planned Executive Actions that will affect everyone’s lives negatively to some degree and how several of those whom he’s picked in his administration have authored them.
• Also on the news they reported on a home burglary, and we reminisced about the burglary we’d had several years ago.
• Earlier in the week the subject of my father’s death several years ago had come up and I’d been thinking of him all week.
• The last thing I watched on TV that night just before I went to bed was Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 classic movie, “Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb”.
Plugging those realizations into the dream elements:
• The mailman is not only a representative of the government, he is the conduit for the ideas of others.
• Trump is a rather largish yellow-haired man, who seems to listen only to the ideas of his closest cronies.
• Every act and utterance by Trump can only be described as “bombastic”.
• I have struggled with my distaste for him as a businessman, his election, who he is as a person, and the fact that the media brings him unbidden into my home on a daily basis.
• My house is my home – where I live – as is my country, where many others also live unseen by me and I find him a threat to them also.
• My dead father is “outside” my home – in heaven – with my Heavenly Father, who would seem to be the only one who is able to help us.
That’s how I managed to interpreted my dream and that allowed me to fall back to sleep after a quick prayer for help to the United States, indeed, the world.
The nightmare confirming what I already believe is a nightmare in reality.