I am dreaming

I had one of those really “real” dreams in the morning. Asked Blue to help me – and he told me to go back into the dream, look at the images/symbols and tell myself repeatedly “I am dreaming this.”

That was fun and illuminating. I was given so many chances to see that I was dreaming, and took none of them.

1) A worker/technician from The National Theater is working digging ditches in my childhood-neigborhood. In this  exploratory version I ask him what the hell he is doing that for – and he gives me a big grin: ” To let you know that you are dreaming.”

2) The second chance to discover I was dreaming was also sweet and ridiculous: I am driving a kick-sled on gravel. I was wondering how that went so marvelously well in the dream – but I didn’t question my state of reality.

3)The kick-sled has transformed into a bike, and I am driving it into a field. I am completely off the mark/in the field.

Blue is having fun – and me too.

I sense a fear-part stressing: “I have to find out what it all means” – but no analyzing, thank you.

3)Next episode I am visiting is  Jewish Passover meal in my neighborhood. While I am telling myself that I am dreaming this, I notice how  my inner child  loves all the rules and regulations about food and prayers and religion: it is predictable.One knows them. They may seem strange, but hey are there. Chaos is missing.

The English great actor Eleanor Bron is there: I have always liked her, and saw her yesterday in a great English movie, made after William Thackeray’s book ” Vanity Fair.” I ask her what something in my dream means – some place I felt stuck, lots of blocks – and she tells me that I should convert to Judaism.

In the re-living dream, I feel stumped. I have given her the authority of  analyzing my dream. She has no idea of what is good for me. And something inside me obviously feel threatened by my giving power and control over to Holy Spirit.

There was a big teaching for me In Vanity Fair: Becky Sharp, the intriguing scandalmonger, does what I discovered was a great way to be safe when little: she makes the men she wants something from feel very very special. They get addicted to this rush of glamor.

Becky in the movie had no maternal feelings for her son, no compassion  –  what she had, was a great ability to manipulate and making people think she loved and adored them.

I have no problems not judging her at all – seeing that I did this as a survival mode for years