Does anyone out there still practice the art of dream interpretation?

Last night was one of the most dream-filled nights in my sleeping career. I went to dinner with friends and had only one glass of wine (the last I’m allowing myself before surgery) so that I would be still be able to take my sleep/chill out aid. Then, I forgot to take it.

Consequently, my sleep was sketchy and, by the time I realized my mistake, I was afraid it was too late and would tamper with my morning if I took anything. So, I powered through a truckload of crazy dreams. I actually think they were all strung together and so that’s how I’m reporting them here.

The dream started with me in an airport. Of course, it was not any airport that I’ve ever been in before. Initially, I was alone but, after a bit or wandering aimlessly through this enormous structure, I found myself now traveling on and off with various others. Among them were my husband, my two kids, my parents, and a married couple we’ve been friends with for years. 

I remember I kept thinking about how pretty the airport was. Very open and full of windows. I thought it looked just like the airport from “Up in the Air,” a movie that I have never seen (consciously or unconsciously) so I have no idea why it would have been such a significant point of reference to me in my dream. 

The airport was crowded and there was a sizeable cash transfer taking place between two parties while we were there. I have absolutely no idea how I was privy to this confidential information but at this point all the above characters in my dream assembled together and decided collectively that we were going to heist that money. ???  So, we immediately began hatching our very complex plan to get our hands on these funds. This segment of my dream was modeled closely after “Ocean’s 11,” another movie that I haven’t seen. And, coincidentally, another movie with George Clooney. (Maybe I have a subconscious crush on him. ??? Repeated Johnny Deep references would have made much more sense to me.)

Anyway, unfortunately, I don’t recall all the intricate details of the sting but, suffice it to say, it worked and we somehow managed to snag the cash. And then we spread out to different areas of the airport to avoid getting caught. My friends spent the next few hours planning how their portion would be used. At this point, my dream started to have a few strands of reality woven into it. Like the fact that it took place during Christmas season. So, my friends’ proposed expenditures included things like iPod touches, iPads and game systems. (How ridiculous is it that we had enough money to buy a Carribbean island and they were worrying about kiddie electronics?)

My son and I were together on another end of the airport. And he kept asking me why we stole the money. And how I could possibly explain that it was the right thing to do. Another strand of reality seeped in again.  He and I recently read ‘The Tell-tale Heart’ together (in my waking state) and all I could think about in the dream was the sound of that deafening heartbeat torturing me and admonishing me to remove myself from this terrible situation.

I was so hysterical about everything that my brother called my cell to calm me down. (How did he even know I was upset? Maybe my virtual mom told him.) He told me to try to relax and said it would help if I listened to his friend sing. So, she got on the phone and began singing ‘My Funny Valentine.’ It did not help and now I was thinking of Elvis Costello’s version of that song which reminded me I hadn’t talked to my husband in all of this insanity.

Which, of course, made him instantly appear. My mom somehow materialized right after he did and and we all began talking about the mess we’d gotten ourselves into and how we could get out of it. Never mind the fact that, apparently without the hundreds of millions we had stolen with others, we had not a dime to our names. We decided it didn’t matter and that we were going to find a way to dump the portion of the money we had back into the right hands (anonymously) and then flee the whole scene.

So, my husband grabbed the small suitcase I’d been carrying around with me but it fell open when he did. And inside were the two library books I am reading (right now … in reality) along with everything I’m bringing to the hospital tomorrow for my surgery (again … in reality).

There was a jolt in my dream that let me know that everything that happened prior to that moment wasn’t real. And that I needed to zip up my suitcase and get to the hospital before I missed my surgery. 

And then I woke up, a little panicked but at least relieved to know I wasn’t headed to jail.

* * * * * * * * * *

My brain is swimming today. I expect I’ll be writing more. Thanks for “listening.”


6 responses to “Does anyone out there still practice the art of dream interpretation?

  1. I’ve read enough Freud and other psychoanalysts less crazy than he and analyzed enough literary texts to be able to conclude with certainty that your dream does not mean you were fulfilling a wish to stage a major bank heist, embezzlement, or Ponzie scheme, or that you are a secret cleptomaniac. It’s all symbolic of course. You are hoping and praying that you will “get away with it” tomorrow and the mass is, as the doctors predict, in fact benign. But subconsciously you fear you’re stealing your hope for yourself from so many of your friends/acquaintances/blog readers/whoever who have lost that hope. Your whole family is in on this scheme because they are all praying for the same thing. Your son is the voice of your conscience telling you it’s not right to steal hope from others. But when you woke up you realized it was just a dream–you’re not stealing anything from anyone. So you’re not going to jail. You’re not late for surgery. You’ll be there on time and no one will be there to arrest you and your hope rightfully belongs to you.

    Maybe I’m the first to comment on this one!!! Someone else might have a totally different interpretation. And dreams are really for the dreamer to interpret, no one else. But I hope this helps.


  2. I wasn’t let in on the heist???

    Don’t you think that’s some information that I would have liked to have known?

  3. No, brother. Because you’re friends with Eric. And he gives me the creeps. Plus, I actually DON’T like tacos.

  4. Traveling thru a crowded airport signifies a journey… I suspect that the “Up In the Air” reference is signifying a journey interrupted… your subconscious is acting out the fear of what the surgery may or may not mean to the rest of your *journey* (life). The prettiness of the airport could signify that you are happy with your life as-is and resent the intrusion of *what-if*. Windows are exit points/escape routes into fantasy or ignoring the endpoint (surgery). That is why you found them so appealing. To act and be as if nothing ever came up, to return to simpler times.

    The part concerning “large cash transactions” is the fear of surgery or other necessary interventions costing your family (this is the *Christmas* part… a traditional “time for family and gifts”) as signified by the mundane nature of the things the married couple were considering for purchase. You *know* that you have enough to deal with this, but still worry that you or your health will become a drain. Your son questioning you was merely the subconscious in a form you could relate to asking the question of “Why? Why did you start us on this journey that we’re not sure we want to be on?” Worry and self-deprecation… the old “Why did you have to ask the question? If you had just left well enough alone…” type thing.

    I suspect that in the dream, as in real life, your husband picking up your suitcase was to continue you forward on your journey, for better or worse… the voice of reason prodding your forward to the truth/reality. Your brother was just a transition between the dream and the reality.

    But, geez, George Clooney?? Haha!

  5. All the money in the world ain’t important, it is having your family and friends with you on whatever crazy adventure you find yourself.
    Good luck tomorrow. My thoughts and prayers are with ya.

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