Sunday Night’s Dream

March 4, 2009 · 2 comments

I must have had too much sleep on Friday and Saturday nights.  Sunday night I was up every hour and a half.  I only slept for about 5 hours or so that night (in 1.5 hour segments), but each time I fell back asleep, I had an entire dream cycle.  Here are a few of them that I can remember:

I was sitting around the big conference table we use for staff meetings at work.  There were two new guys – big, older gentlemen in cheap suits – sitting at the table with us and everyone seemed to be deferring to them.  They were the “new blood” that were brought in to turn the company around.  I could smell that they were evil – some kind of agents of the devil.  Everybody was completely transfixed by them and agreeing to their ideas, even though they made no sense to me.  I was late to the meeting and didn’t get my usual seat (one of the new guys was sitting in it), so I just kind of hung around the outskirts.  I was surprised that they had everyone so bamboozled, but I really didn’t care (which is odd for me).  Where I normally would have stood up and shouted my disagreements and own ideas from the corner of the room, I didn’t.  I have a sense that I tried to disagree, but nobody was listening to me.  Odd, again, because such things generally lead to extreme frustration on my part, and in the dream I just kind of dropped the subject and didn’t try again.

In another segment, I was standing just inside the doorway to a big kitchen.  The cook was a subordinate of mine.  A trolley cart was rolled in with a deer on top of it.  The deer was lying on its back and I noticed that its legs and head were moving – it wasn’t dead, even though it was supposed to be.  I sensed, however, that it was injured beyond repair.  I told the cook that he needed to kill the deer in as humane a manner as possible.  Then the deer was standing before me and the cook plunged a large knife into one side of the deer’s neck and drew it around to the other (left to right, from my field of view).  The scene then cut to the deer on its belly with its legs tucked up beneath it – as though it were a dog in the “down” position.  Its head was up and its neck was straight.  I think its snout had been cut off.  The deer then stood up and started walking toward me.

Another dream cycle had me standing in a large open room with big windows (fenestrae, in Latin).  Bugs started flying and crawling into the room through the apertures – a few small ones (about the size of beetles) at first, but they grew in size and number.  All kinds of different bugs in (ha) surreal shapes.  I crushed a few of the larger, stranger looking ones under my heel, but could see that I couldn’t possibly combat them all.  In a similar fashion to the first dream segment I described, I didn’t really care that I wouldn’t be able to get them all.  One stuck to my hand like a burr sticks to one’s jeans and I had to shake pretty hard to get it off.  I had a vague feeling that this was one of the signs of the coming apocalypse.

I’m not sure if this next bit is part of the same dream segment or a different one.

The big room I was in with the bugs transmogrified into an open field.  The bugs were still there and other things started happening – all of which I knew were signs of the coming apocalypse.  I was with someone else (female) and I knew that we needed to confess ourselves to Christ in order to be saved.

[Let me briefly digress that I’ve read the “Left Behind” series by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins.  These are a series of born-again Christian novels set in modern times and based directly upon the Book of Revelation.  None of the bits of my dream(s) corresponded directly to the events contained therein, but the specific notions of confessing to Christ with the lilps and heart are almost certainly derived therefrom.  It is also important to note at this point in the post that my spiritu-religious views qualify me as an agnostic.]

I explained to my female companion that she needed to confess her sins and ask for Christ’s forgiveness, both with her mouth (aloud) and with her heart.  She did so and was saved.  I then realized that it was my turn to do so; that I had to confess with my lips and heart in order to be saved from the pain, etc. that was certainly to follow.  And so I did.

With my lips.  But my heart wasn’t in it.  I had a mental conversation with the God/Christ, explaining that I knew exactly what I was supposed to do, but that my heart just wasn’t in it, despite my intellectual protestations.  I was not afraid of the certain consequences.  Strange, that that physical fear that usually attends “nightmares” was nowhere present in me at all this past Sunday eve.  My heart was not racing, I didn’t wake up abruptly and/or in a cold sweat.  Again, I just didn’t care.  The God/Christ was pretty matter-of-fact with me about the requirements for salvation, and I was pretty matter-of-fact about my own feelings:  sure, I’d like to be saved, but I just couldn’t give the God/Christ what it was looking for – it just wasn’t in me.  Sorry, but I tried.

And that’s it. 

So, dear reader and amateur head-shrinker, try to get your arms around that set of dreams.  Yes, I’d like to know what they mean, but I’m not really all that worried about it.  I kind of don’t care. 

Interestingly enough, I did encounter similar situations and feelings as part of the dream(s) yesterday at work:  I was, in fact, late to the staff meeting and did not get to sit in my usual seat because there were two new members of the company.  Neither was old and large, and neither had a cheap suit on.  I didn’t pay much attention to what they had to say, except as it pertained to my own work.  Similar to the dream, I didn’t have any desire to convince my co-workers of any opinions I might have had. 

There was, also a situation later in the day wherein I was trying to convince my co-workers of the righteousness of my position, but they just didn’t want to hear it.  I was pretty pissed at the time, but decided to just let it go.  Any ideas?  Am I gradually metamorphosing into a sociopath?  Again, I kind of don’t care.

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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

lilynicole March 4, 2009 at 11:18

OK…here’s comes the 8am (Pacific Time) Armchair Shrink Effort.

1. From tarot cards to Freud, death has always meant rebirth, or the start of something new. It seems you crave an enormous upheaval; to be somewhere or doing something that stimulates your mind and senses. They are clearly not satiated now. (ie the bug who stuck to your hand. Insatiable. You knew it too.)

2. The “rapture” scene: you KNOW how to get out: find a new path, adventure (call it what you will). You know it so well that you can share it with your “lady friend” and give her salvation (escape from the mundane that’s slaying you). Then there’s you (I’m not pointing fingers, I’m the same way). You know exactly how to release yourself from this teeth-grinding purgatory either you or your subconscious is yowling to escape from, but for some reason you are frozen from action. (why, Ted, why?!)

3. The deer that won’t die shows you that it’s not about death, it keeps reappearing in “alive” poses. The deer (particularly a stag) is an archetypal symbol of love. So it’s not over. (Was it a stag?)

4. Your apathy toward the “Bobs” (I’m sorry, that’s all I can think of, the Michael Bolton-loving consultants) just shows how freakin’ bored you are with the status quo.

You long for skinned dear & a slave to boss around in the kitchen (sex sex sex sex) and new adventures. Come now, whoever heard of a stagnant Jedi? (I heard skywalker was a fan of the Pacific…)

Sorry, didn’t mean to make light of my psycho analysis, but it is refreshing! n*

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niceguyted March 4, 2009 at 23:17

lol – “single dude needs to get laid” Talk about mundane, huh?

Seriously, though: very insightful, Nicole. I appreciate the illumination. You’re probably right. Springtime is coming and with that, itchy feet.

It was, in fact, a stag.

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