Open to judgment.
Level of Lucidity: N/A Level of Cohesiveness:
Rating:
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 3808 times.
Daytime and I find myself in the city where I lived about 6 or 7 years ago I am stood on a street corner where a side street on a hill meets a main road.Significant details in the dream are, to my left in waking life a supermarket which specializes in frozen food products (but which plays no part in the dream) and to my right a new large courthouse which is purely a dream construct.
I have driven a car by myself to the top of the side street which meets the main road and stopped at the traffic lights which have changed to amber indicating that I should prepare to stop as they are about to change to red.
As I wait at the lights I see my wife struggling with some shopping bags outside on the sidewalk so I get out to help her. I am in something of a dilemma as for some unforeseen reason I cannot combine what my wife is doing with what I am doing.
It is complicated to explain but what I mean is that I cannot simply put my wife’s shopping bags into the boot of my car to relieve her burden (and make things easier for the both of us) but I have to get out and leave my car and carry the bags for her.
This I do and get out of my car leaving it at the traffic lights whilst I help my wife who seems uncharacteristically lacking her usual strength of character. My wife seems to drift off and goes to wait in my car whilst I wait at the junction with the heavy shopping bags, it is here that I note that in my left hand I am holding a raw fillet of steak. Ego wise the raw meat isn’t particularly pleasant to hold but I’m aware from within the dream that it is a good wholesome symbol full of potential and raw energy.
It’s at this point that I notice the new courthouse across the street and to my left, I decide to cross over the road to investigate it further. The doors to the court house are two huge heavy caramel coloured wooden ones, the doors swing shut with ease but I am somehow made aware by the new top judge of the courthouse that she would like them kept open at all times.
Fortunately there is an iron fixture bolted to the back of the door which hooks into a clasp on the wall just behind, I push the heavy door struggling for a little while to fit the hook into the eye but eventually manage to get the door held open as the judge wished. I feel very pleased to have kept the door open like this, it’s quite an achievement and I sense that the judge is very happy with me too.
Without actually meeting the judge I sense her and feel her presence, she is a very fair and just lady who is psychologically, intellectually and emotionally mature. I feel strongly that she wants the very best for my wife and I, in some regards she represents the perfect human being combining the compassion of the archetypal mother with the authority of the model father.
I return back to my car where I see my wife waiting for me but before getting in I see a message on the traffic lights, it explains that exceptionally I could have previously driven through the amber lights as there is currently something of a free flow situation on the roads at this junction where all road users have priority due to some kind of temporary problem with the traffic lights.
It now dawns on me but I hadn’t really been paying attention when I first approached the traffic lights at the beginning of the dream, they weren’t changing from amber to red indicating for me to come to a halt at all but were actually displaying a constantly flashing amber light warning me to proceed with caution.
Additional Comments:
Thoughts: I’m surprised my dream recall has been as good as it has the past few days as I haven’t been getting my usual amount of sleep. This dream might have come about after a stressful experience that happened at home yesterday but which turned out okay in the end, the experience was one which made me see things in a different light and this is perhaps how the traffic lights fit into the dream drama.Dream 2: Masks in the attic – Late evening time indoors and I find myself climbing up a small ladder into a vaguely familiar loft, from below it looks like the one at home but inside I discover this attic is extremely welcoming, cozy and warm the sort of place where one might come for peace and solitude in order to reflect on the past, but is still not a room as such merely a comfortable neatly cluttered storage space. I pull out an old trunk like chest the kind pirates used for their treasure and open the lid. I see a collection of old neatly stacked beautifully crafted masks, I compassionately and gently lift the fragile masks out to briefly look at them. I smile a gentle reminiscing sort of smile there is something quite pleasing and maturely contemplative being able to look at the masks face to face like this, they are sort of like old acquaintances whose age I can ascertain by their papery frailness. I have brought up with me into the attic another mask to place in the trunk, it’s that of a beautiful Pierrot clown that has a sad martyr like expression similar to one side of the Janus masks associated with theatres, that of the one representing tragedy. I ceremoniously place the mask gently into the trunk with the others, carefully closing the lid after which I replace a burgundy blanket over the chest tucking it back in its rightful place in a dark secluded corner.
Dream 3: The wanderer’s wound – Daytime and I find myself inside the McDonalds fast food restaurant in the town where I lived about 10 years ago, I am sat eating a delicious and satisfying beef burger. Sat slumped at a table across the way from me is a homeless tramp (the man looks like a homeless man I often saw around and about the same town in waking life all of those years ago, although I never approached the man or spoke with him I found him fascinating. He had long wavy brown hair and a full beard, he was older than me but beneath his hair and beard had the face of a young man, his long hair and beard making him appear older than his years. It was just possible to see that he had a very noble, wise, educated handsomely sculpted sort of face but somehow it also had a weariness or tiredness as if brought on by some kind of relentless questing or searching. He looked very much like the character of Percival or Parsifal from the film ‘Excalibur’ by John Boorman (which with hindsight almost certainly seems relevant to this dream) but I also often associated him with the German philosopher Nietzsche too and often referred to him by this name in my private thoughts whenever I saw him)....anyway on with the dream....as I gaze over at the man I’m suddenly shocked to see that he is bleeding, a thick dark oozing blood slowly treacles out onto the restaurant floor from what appears to be his left thigh. I look flittingly about the deserted restaurant somewhat concerned looking to see if anyone else has noticed the man’s emergency, but nobody has, all except for a vaguely familiar boyish waitress who has come to wipe my table clean. We both go over inquisitively to see if the man is okay but we are frightened to see that he appears unconscious. The waitress says that as the restaurant isn’t busy we can take him out back into the kitchens and tidy him up she explains that the manager wouldn’t mind as she is a very benevolent lady. We drag the emaciated man who is unusually heavy through the restaurant, past the service counters and into the kitchen where we lift him up onto a stainless steel kitchen work surface. We survey the man as if looking at a hospital patient who is about to be operated on by two inexperienced graduate doctors, each of us picking out areas on the man which need attention. Several things seem urgent, one is to get the man out of his filthy clothes which we begin to do, and secondly I would like to wash him and trim his hair and give him a shave but these ablutions will have to wait as his constantly bleeding wound necessitates urgent attention. We strip the unconscious Christ like man of all his garments and I begin to tend to his wound by mopping up the thick dark blood, as I gently swab the wound I look more closely and am suddenly shocked to see that the gash is actually a vagina, I recoil with a sense of panic and horror, feeling confused I quickly ask the waitress to do something to stem the flow of unceasing menstrual blood. Thankfully the waitress remains calm and collected but tells me that it is only I who can help curtail the loss of blood, although the man’s predicament is stressful at least for what I think must be for him, throughout the whole dream I personally feel very complete, whole and as if the man’s problem isn’t so much ‘my’ problem but that I felt obliged to help and do him a good turn. Regardless of these feelings I still panic though at the sight of the blood and swivel about on the spot frantically looking for something to help the man, in my confusion I grab an onion from amongst some vegetables on the work surface and clumsily stuff it into the wound plugging the hole as if using it as a cork. The boyish waitress smiles and gives me shake of the head and a wry laugh as if indicating that this will not help, I decide to remove the onion and as I do so I see a small golf ball sized pink sphere inside the man’s thigh, I wonder if it is not a bone, ball joint or the man’s knee cap but this doesn’t seem so. I put my fingers inside the gash and try to take a hold of the ball to remove it but find that it is very stubborn. I do eventually manage to remove the thing from inside the man’s thigh and am taken aback to see that it is the body of a little fetus or sleeping boy. I carefully place the little dormant boy on the kitchen work surface near to the vegetables whilst I go back to tend to the man’s wound. Much to my surprise the bleeding appears to have quelled and the wound looks surprisingly healed. I turn my attention back to the little boy but when I look for him on the work top all I find amongst the lettuce and other vegetables is a little piece of root ginger with arms, legs and a knobbly little head just like a mandrake root.
