What Dreams May Come

For those of you who know me, this won’t come as much of a surprise…

I’m nuts.

Wacky, crazy, loony, goofy, loco, bonkers, touched-in-the-head… Please, you go ahead and fill in any others.

I understand that there are degrees of crazy.  I think diagnoses can range from—pardon my use of highly medical terms—mildly unsound to nutty as a fruitcake to nuttier than a fruit cake to completely f*&#ing nuts.  I now know that I fit within the latter category.

To understand how I arrived at my diagnosis, let me explain to you there are many little-known tests and/or simple observations which can be utilized by the layperson to determine the level of mental deficiency.  In this instance I employed the What-Dreams-am-I-Having Method.

Dreams are defined as  “…a succession of images, ideas, emotions and sensations occurring involuntarily in the mind during certain portions of sleep.”  OK, that’s all well and good, but people have been discussing and arguing over the meaning of dreams since homo erectus dreamed he was constantly falling out of a tree.  Clan medicine man, Sigmo Lofreudicus, helped him to see that he was intimidated because he wasn’t as erectus as some of the other guys in the clan and therefore his “falling” represent other things falling.  His descendant, Sigmund Freud, is known as the father of modern psychotherapy and also the creator of the Freudian Slip, which could be worn under most evening wear.

Freud said that dreams were sources of insight into unconscious desires.  He also thought most dreams were about sex, though recent studies have shown that adults dream of sex only ten percent of the time.  They didn’t include me in those studies.

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Carl Jung thought the bizarre nature of dreams was a form of poetry which could reveal the underlying meaning.  Along those lines, Gestalt Dream Therapy suggests that in each dream, every person or object in that dream, represents an aspect of the dreamer.  I’ve always been fond of the Gestalt method and, in the past, have found it quite helpful.  Until the other night.

The other night I had a dream of Oprah Winfrey.  That is somewhat alarming even in itself, but in the dream I was yelling at Oprah because she made my youngest sister, Lisa, kill their family’s pet rabbit.  Horrible, right?  But that wasn’t the end of it.  She made my sister prepare her pet rabbit for a dinner as an audition for a new cooking show Oprah was producing.  In my dream, she’d told my sister that she wouldn’t even consider talking with her as a possible guest on the show if she couldn’t complete this assignment.

At the point I recall the dream, my sister had done what Oprah asked—as any woman in the free world would immediately do when commanded by the great and all-powerful Oprah—and I had found out about it after the fact and was standing in Oprah’s dressing room, yelling at her.  Screaming at her.

I don’t remember exactly what I was saying, but it was along the lines that she had become way too full of herself to require someone to kill their family pet in order to even have an audience with her.  But all of that really isn’t important here.

I do not know Oprah Winfrey.  I’ve never met her.  As far as I know, she does not have or is she planning a cooking show.  I do have a sister, Lisa.  However, she, nor does anyone in her family, own a pet rabbit.

Where the hell does this come from?  What part of what’s left of my mind is concocting this dream?

And, if I use the Gestalt Method, I have to see which aspect of my own personality each person or object in that dream represents.

Which aspect of my personality is my little sister?!  Which aspect is a cooked bunny?!!  Which aspect is Oprah Winfrey?!!!

Where the hell do I begin to answer these and subsequent questions?!  And, do I really want to know the answers?!!?

No!

Forget it!  It is much easier for me to accept what you already know.  I am just freakin’ nutty.

Done.

I’m going back to sleep.  I hope I’ll have nothing to report to you tomorrow.