Poster A relates a dream he or she has had–not a fantasy, but an actual dream, a night time movie with only that poster for an audience.
The next poster(s) reacts to and/or analyzes the first dream, then relates one of their own.
From there on it’s lather, rinse, repeat.
I dreamed I saw a man being beaten and whipped while none of the onlookers did anything.
I was in a school classroom of some sort; I didn’t recognize institution. It was fairly crowded, with the students sitting, not individual desks, but rather behind tables that were maybe four feet long, two to a table. The tables were far enough part so it was easy to move in between them. I didn’t know any of my fellow students. The teacher was a tall, rotund white man, maybe 6’4" and 300 lbs; he was young, no more than thirty, and had a scraggly beard. He had brought his young child to the class with him. The teacher was very funny and personable; the students all liked him.
We were given our assignment (I don’t recall what it was, and in fact I don’t think I knew in the dream) and were looking down at our papers when suddenly a ruckus started. Looking up, we saw that the teacher had been attacked by another fellow of similar size. They were rolling around on the floor, punching one another, while the teacher’s child was suddenly nowhere to be seen; I’m not sure if he was hiding or had been taken by away. The teacher managed to overpower his attacker and ran into the hall. As he reached the door he was tackled again by another fellow; they fought and rolled into the hall, where a third assailant joined the fray. Now it was three on one, and as this was not a comic book the teacher swiftly got the worst of it. While two of the attackers held him down, the third took a belt or strap and started whipping the teacher. The crack of leather on face echoed loudly.
I rose to my feet, filled with dream bravery. “C’mon,” I told my classmates, “we’ve got to help him!”
No one moved to join me. I couldn’t stand to watch, so I started to go outside alone, but suddenly the chairs and tables were too close together for me to manuever. All I could do was watch and listen to the beating.
Dreams of a classroom point to anxiety about an up coming event. Violence can signify unresolved anger in the waking world. Since you weren’t the attacker, the anger might be regarding an injustice to someone you care for. The lack of support for your attempt to help means you see yourself as the only one who can right the wrong. The path being blocked indicates you fear the outcome. If you can’t reach the melee, you can’t lose the fight.
Mine is a recurring dream. It has some variations but is basicly the same dream.
I approach a white buliding (house?) It has lots of glass and is at least 2 stories tall. The grounds (yard?) is thick, deep mud. It’s been raining for several days. There are 1X12s forming a path to the door.
Inside, straight ahead, is a door to a large locker room. It has a chlorine odor, and I hear echos from a pool. There are dozens of dressing and, what may be, toilet cubicles, but the toilets aren’t yet installed. I hear voices from the pool, but can’t make out words. I never go to the pool.
I back track to the entry area.
Turning right from the locker room door, the room is fairly small. It has thick, pure white, unblemished carpet. There is no furniture, only a sweeping spiral staircase. It has no hand rail, and the stair treads seem to float in place. The white carpet continues up the stair. To the left of the stairs is a 2 story window wall, with no joins or breaks. It’s solid glass, 10 feet wide and two stories tall. I hear beautiful piano music coming from up the stairs… The Moonlight Sonata, I think.
I walk up the stairs. They lead to a simple loft with only a white concert grand piano on the white carpet. The floor doesn’t seem to have any support, the edge is unrailed, about a foot from the glass. The last chords of the music are fading as my head clears the upper floor.
No one is there, and the stairs are the only way down. I’m puzzled, but not much.
I go back down the stairs, and notice another set of stairs, going down.
These are very different. They are very wide, with thick ornate hand rails. They are white marble, and so old there are indentations where thousands of feet have trod. They go to a landing where there is a large stained glass window. The upper part of the stairs are brightly lit by the windows, but turning to the lower section, I can’t see the bottom.
I hold the rail and walk down. As I approach the bottom the light dies completely, leaving me blind. My foot comes off the last step, and something crunches under it. I turn right. Somehow, I know where I have to go, but the crunching under foot frightens me. I have to walk about 5 feet from the last step to where I must go. The material breaking under foot doesn’t change. I reach out for a door knob, and open a small, very old, and heavy door. I have to duck my head, as I step through.
I’m in a court yard in bright sunlight (did I mention it was raining when I entered the building)
The yard is narrow and blind. There’s a path about 20 feet long that ends in a stone wall.
On the left side of the path, is a strawberry garden with the biggest, reddest, sweet smelling berries I’d ever seen. I spend some time picking berries, eating some, but putting most in the apron I’m suddenly wearing.
When I can’t carry any more, I have no choice but to go back through the dark. I don’t want to see what was on the floor, but when I open the door I have no option. The floor is covered with the white skulls of tiny babies. They are very old (I don’t know how I know this, but I do.) and fragile. There are thousands of them. This is where I always wake up. Horrified, but missing the berries.
Hmm, baby skulls. Interesting. Obviously a tie-in with your work. I wonder if you are considering a change in your work status, maybe accepting a promotion or going to a different department or hospital? The way I see it, you go into this building representing your career (after rain and mud and hardship?) then you have several choices to make, all of them at least somewhat good and enjoyable. The berries could be where you are now, happy but at a dead end; the baby skulls representing the downside of the job.
Dream I had last night: I was in a rustic village type of place. There was a cobblestone bridge going over some water. On the bridge was a small goat. I was afraid the goat would be killed by a car if it didn’t go somewhere else, so I caught it, thinking I would look after it. Some people passing on a boat gave me a little bottle of milk with a nipple so I could feed it. Here, my son made a brief cameo appearance in the dream, as I offered to let him feed the goat. Suddenly, the goat appeared to die; it was sucking on the milk when its head flopped over to one side and the milk started pouring all over its face. My son was gone. I started to cry, but as I picked up the goat, it came to life again and snuggled in my arms. I told it I was going to take it to a safe place, and as I carried it, I realized I was walking through a warehouse type building. I opened the back door, and saw a small grassy yard (and not far away, the bridge.) I woke up.
I usually can pinpoint a source for my dreams, but this one has me stumped.
There is a war in Heaven. Gabriel (the angel) didn’t want to put up with God’s crap anymore and started a civil war with some loyal followers. An all-out Lord of the Rings war with sides clashing with swords and bows. Many angels died.
Satan sees this and decides that this would be a good time to take over the establishment and promptly sends his demons to attack BOTH sides and wipe them all out.
The only problem is that whenever a demon kills an angel a human here on earth is turned into a Reaver (from Serenity). For those who don’t know, a Reaver will rape you to death, eat your organs and sew your skin into their flesh. Not a nice group of people.
Me, in the dream became a Reaver Killer. And I became good at it. God recognized this and gave me a golden sword to continue my work.
You’ve been reading too much Angel Sanctuary and watching too much Firefly before bedtime.
A more serious interpretation: you’re very concerned about the world/current issues and you’ve got a lot of pent-up energy and desire to “save” the world in one way or another. You probably also have an “enemy” in mind that you believe causes said problems, whether it be an abstract concept/philosophy/community or real-life figure.
Well, I’m not sure. It’s not far off, but kind of “upsidedown”
I started having the dream when I moved from adult trauma, to peds critical care.
I’ve been retired for a couple years now, but I’ve had the dream recently.
Well, I don’t know if I’ll be able to offer a totalistic interpretation, but the goat appearing to die could be related to too much nuturing? Milk and the act of feeding brings to mind the mother, and suddenly we have milk pouring down the face (indicating, to me, an overabundance). Are you worried that you have placed your son in a position that he may not be ready for, and he might react by providing too much of a good thing? Note that once you, who have more experience in the world and with nurturing things (presumably), enter the scene again, all is well. The warehouse is a place you store things–perhaps you realize that you need to “cross a bridge” (figuratively) to reach these things kept in the warehouse that will help you nuture the goat. If I could pin down what the goat was, this would all make more sense…like I said, this is a bit jumbled, and scattered, but I hope it helps you make some connections in your mind.
dmastch’s dream
This one is harder for me because I am not at all familiar with Serenity and its symbolism. However, I agree with dre2xl; this dream signifies a great wellspring of emotion. You may feel impotent against the forces that you wish to fight (or as though you feel you are on the cusp of being able to do something, but are unsure as to that last step)–note that you earn the sword from God, and it stands as a proud moment where your potency and skill are recognized. The sword is a problematic image because of its heavy and varied symbolism, but it generally represents some sort of power. This dream seems to show you achieving success not on the most “global” level (in the great war that is your ultimate concern) but in a more tangible arena–perhaps this mindset is the solution for finding an outlet for your strong energy and desire to do?
Here’s mine. It’s one of the dreams that I have on a recurring theme. I frequently have dreams where I am either late for a flight or missing important paperwork. However, this particular dream had an unusual beginning:
I was asleep in my room, and one of my students (I work with the college set) came in and woke me. I didn’t want to get up, and I was annoyed with him for being in my room (IRL this is one of my brightest and boldest students), but he persisted. Finally, he looked at me and said, “Walk with me in the orchids.” I told him that I couldn’t, because I had a flight to catch. This was the most affecting and vivid part of the dream, and none of my “late flight” dreams have ever featured such an episode.
I was just about to leave for the airport, when my father came in and said he had a headache. He asked me for Tylenol. I searched for the bottle of Tylenol that I (again, IRL) keep in my tote bag (IRL everyone knows I have this bottle, and I am constantly being hit up for it), but I couldn’t find it. I begged him to get his own, as I was going to be late for my flight. He wouldn’t have it. Finally, I found the bottle, gave him the Tylenol, and went on my way.
[NB. The night before, I dreamed that I was flying to Israel with my colleagues, but they were suddenly replaced by my mother.]
As I left, I thought that I was going to be OK. I had checked in online, and I had my boarding pass. However, I had to wait for the shuttle. I waited and waited. It didn’t come, and I could find no reason why. Panicked, I asked around, and someone told me that I was waiting on the wrong level–the shuttle traveled underground. I had forgotten to go down the stairs (there is often an underground element in these dreams…sometimes the airport itself is underground).
I got on the shuttle, and got off at my stop. However, since I was so nervous, I left my jacket and boarding pass on the shuttle. They were long gone. I was about to have a melt-down, when I saw one of my colleagues–a woman that I like, but for some reason does not like me–and this caused further upset. I finally collected myself enough to go to the airline counter, where the man working told me everything would be OK, and I could have a new boarding pass as long as I had my ID (which I did–though I did not have it in one dream). As usual, I woke up before I got on the plane.
You know, it occurred to me earlier this morning* that we kind of left **ACC_Expat ** hanging, and after he/she was kind enough to work on all of our dreams, I thought I’d come back and give his (hers?) a shot.
You say the first part of the dream, where the student is waking you up, was the most “affecting”. Can you identify exactly what emotion you felt? Do orchids mean something particular to you? I can only surmise from what you have posted that you admire this student and he admires you, and you both might wish that you could get to know each other outside of your student/teacher relationship. I don’t necessarily mean a romantic or sexual involvement!
Now the rest of it sounds like one of the classic frustration dreams we all have, of trying to accomplish something and never succeeding (much like life, but I digress. ) I think it’s just your expression of worry about trying to get a lot of things done. Do you feel a little overextended lately?
Anyway, welcome to the boards, ExPat!
*My mind wanders surprisingly far afield while I get ready for work.
I had a really disturbing nightmare some time ago:
I come into my room from the hallway, opening the door, and I see something lying on the floor. It’s not really clear, whatever it is–something bloody, I think a decapitated head.
In the dream I start screaming and screaming, hysterically, and collapse on the floor near my bookcase still screaming my lungs out. I’m completely out of control, just shrieking with sheer panic.
Then I woke up in a cold sweat, breathing hard, and huddled under the covers for the rest of the night.
) I think it’s just your expression of worry about trying to get a lot of things done. Do you feel a little overextended lately?