I woke up this morning nearly watching myself step onto the safe sidewalk from the middle of a graveled street where sleep and consciousness meet. The movement to reality and away from reveries was quietly continuous today.
This ease is peculiar for I was just a woman with a penis seducing the gay prep school character from Glee.
Did your jaw become unhinged and leave your proper face?
Does this prove my latent homosexual feelings?
If you have not skimmed or plunged the book, Female Perversions by Louise J. Kaplan and are interested in sexuality and its meaning-making, deceits, and strategies then purchase it. This book always resonates on a layer tucked deep where language has yet to confront the felt experience. And, as some of us know, language is helpful and creates sense, yet it can trim and condense and fall short of what one has experienced and felt.
Back to the penis. Attached to me. Right. That.
First, let me tell you something: before going through a psychology program, dreams, for me, were categorized as these involuntary, bizarre, mental kites; external from and slightly attached to me insomuch as they bore some semblance of my reality, but remained very much separate from me. Associations were easily overlooked due to the madness of the whipping and odd-shaped kites that did not involve the sleight of my hands.
My graduate studies and personal therapy dream work have told me something different.
One, the human mind is fucking amazing. I needed to use this curse word for emphasis. Truly, the human mind is terrifyingly witting and has an arsenal of associations that crawl back to that one morning as a toddler seeing a rabbit and feeling some warm sensation.
It has a constellation of feelings, thoughts, memories that most assuredly mimics the universe’s gallaxies or visa versa.
Vast, layered; interconnected and interpenetrating.
Thus, to interpret a dream is strictly contingent upon the unique individual–how she ascribes meaning, her experiences with self and other, and what remains unseen by her naked eye and heart.
Let’s take a moment and ponder upon the absolute strangeness of dreams. We close our eyes, cease swallowing, cease consciousness, cease volition and our minds begin to work out the things unnoticed in the waking hours, in story form. The mind hires the covered past and dormant present to act out fears, anxieties, needs, and longings. A kind of mind-bending play.
The bear coming toward you, but never reaching you since you hustle down onto a pier in the middle of a dark night amidst a sweeping sea, uncertain of what to do is part of the dream-play. This bear becomes understood as your mother–aggressive and protective; distant and silent; unclear with intentions–killer or a mere passerby? Yet the bear is also yourself and the manner in which the bear dealt with you is how you treat your wounds, your anxieties, your heartache that beholds rigid contempt and judgment.
This prophetic facet of life illuminates something very disturbing and disrupting to our conditioned way of everyday life. Do we ever listen to our dreams? Are they just like the crazy person on the corner yelling profanities or talking nonsensically about a dog with 4 eyes? The crazies of this world, as my husband would vouch, might be more normal and more informative about this world than you or I. The you and I who can agilely and obediently walk on the sidewalks composed of strict grids with 90° angles. We are probably more crazy than those who are socially deemed as such and so might our dreams be more normal as well? And, might our dreams be telling us an alternative story than our 90°, boring, safe, humdrum, obedient lives?
God gave us quite the gift. It tells us truth in an alternative story form when we are not willing or able to hear from the actual story, enabling possible engagement.
Now back to my penis. You will have to wait for part II.