Saturday, February 14, 2009

Part Two - Eating Lightbulbs Dream Series

First, thank you to everyone who responded with such beautiful interpretations of the last dream. As I tend to dream in series', I am sending you the second installment, dreamt the following night. If more come (There are usually three or four, dreamt a few nights in a row), I will post them. Please let me know if you'd like to read the interpretations. They're lovely and meaningful.

I dream that I am at "Abbey Ice" watching a panel truck marked "Mystic Water" pull into the gate. I feel frightened. I know they have come for me. "This is what the mystic does" the driver says. "The mystic melts her experience and shares it with others."
This is about the book? I ask. He nods, solemnly. I have the sense that the truck has come to pick up my book, which has taken over three months to prepare to send to the editor. While I've been working on the book, I realize, I've been visiting my father less and less, afraid to get to close as he moves into the end of his life.

Oh, love hurts so much, it is too much to bear, I feel, I think, I feel, I think. I am drifting between dreams.
I dream again of lightbulbs--and of glass--and also of ice. I am standing on the platform at Abbey Ice staring at the open gate as I bite into an ice cube. Ice is clear and crunchy, I think. The ice cube is half frozen, a crust of ice that breaks on my teeth as the water contained within gushes into my mouth and down my throat. Water is the flow of emotion, I think, interpreting my dream within the dream. Ice is the flow of emotion but frozen, I think.

I drift awake, the song, City of Blinding Light, by U2, playing over and over in my head. Oh, you look so beautiful tonight, the song lyric repeats. Matthew gets up, walking through the room as I'm drifting, on his way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I fall back to sleep with the message: Put your heart into it filling the room. I wake suddenly as a man's voice whispers urgently right into my ear, Help! Again, I open my eyes and no one is there.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

What does this mean?

I dream that I am biting into lightbulbs, chewing them up and swallowing. It’s not painful—and not particularly satisfying either. Like unsalted potato chips or pretzels, they’re crunchy with little real flavor. “It’s okay,” someone tells me (though I didn’t ask), “The power’s turned off at the source. They can’t hurt you.” I must have eaten five or six of them when I realize, albeit belatedly, that eventually the power will be turned on!

It’s then that I see, on television or in the next room (what’s the difference, really?) a man running wildly around, shouting, “He ate a lightbulb? A lightbulb?” “Yes,” a woman materializes to explain. “A lightbulb.”
“Call the hospital,” the man screams and the woman leaves, apparently to do so (but who knows? She may not have liked the way he was talking to her and decided to just let him call the $&^# hospital himself.)

I wake up thinking about how much damage might be done to my large intestine, small intestine, and colon—not to mention the painful business of excretion, if you know what I mean—and pondering the best course of action: Do I drink a gallon or two of water (as one is supposed to do to flush out toxins)? Do I race to the hospital myself? Do I, perhaps, induce vomiting?

I settle on my usual strategy: Waiting to see what happens.

I wake up with a man’s voice saying, “Amy!” quite sharply in my ear. When I open my eyes, no one is there.