Dreams: more thoughts (farris wheel, aliens)
I texted my wife while at work, “What do you do with a woman who fishes without bait? (hint…that means she has bare, barbed fish hooks in the water. You cannot see them, but once in you, she will reel you in…) Answer: you stay the hell away from her.”
The answer, “She fishes wtihout bait” was a big reveal in the dream. It was an answer to a riddle. It was a big clue in finding the “missing person” which was a theme through much of the dream.
This seemed to be about my mom. She is the one who is fishing with fishhooks without bait. There is no incentive to do what she wants. I'm not getting anything out of it. It's not even kind, or nice. It's just manipulation. Guilt, fear, duty, veiled threats. Fish hooks without bait. It's a powerful image.
**
I am thinking more about my time on the strange planet. I realize now that the incident with the farris wheel lady was related to being turned into an alien.
Several things happened in very quick succession, and I think they were meant to be almost the same thing.
There was an incompetent mother. She was not morally good or bad, just incompetent. We were all riding a farris wheel in space, and we could see the stars (all white on black) and then the milky way. The milky way was the only colour we could see: a beautiful purple and blue, like some galaxies are. I thought, “That is the only place I want to be.” The farris wheel, and this whole expedition, was meant to show me the wonders of the universe, but I just wanted to go home.
The woman on the farris wheel didn’t have a clue, and her child kept slipping out, and floating out into space. That part I really remember. I was very frustrated at her. The child was not me, we were not related, but I wanted to keep the child safe. There was a rope, which drifted lazily around her, myself, and the child. But despite my efforts, the child was not safe.
Almost instantly, myself and my two friends (one a girl, one a boy…we were “on the same team” somehow…not related, but like we went there together. I wonder if this is my mind’s way of speaking of components of myself? Like, the left and right hemispheres of my brain? Or my mind and emotions? I find I am often represented as a group of people in these sorts of dreams) We were in a supermarket, but running out quickly.
On a loudspeaker, was blaring, “We will make you into an alien. If you do not want to be made into an alien, please press the red button.” Something like that the exact words were not important. It was meant to be generous to turn us into aliens: why wouldn’t we want to become like them? The announcement and the button were just a formality. But we very passionately did not want to become one of them. And so we ran as fast as we could to the red button, barely making it in time.
One of the aliens came, kind of chuckling, somewhat embarrassed that we would have to hurry so much. “Of course, of course…you don’t have to be like us…that is totally fine….” As I think about it now, I realize a number of things:
1. That alien was my dad. It wasn’t quite my dad…almost like it wasn’t all of him. Just components of him were represented there. Like how I had two companions, that I can’t picture clearly in my mind (one female, one male). Dad was only partially represented: it wasn’t the whole picture. But he was laughing awkwardly the way he would if I really put my foot down. “Of course, of course. No need to make such a big stink about it…” (when really it was he who was making a big deal of something). When I would really win, he would make it like he let me win, and then like I had been making a big deal out of something, to make me feel ashamed. It felt like that.
2. I realize that there were very strong emotions attached to the galaxy. “Home.” Also to the colours. There was something significant about the shape. As I think about it, I realize that we all had galaxies in our midsections. I am very tempted to say that it was our “guts.” Our emotions. But also, I feel like (I may be projecting here) I could almost see a part of my brain lighting up, like it was an MRI of emotions in an actual brain.
3. I have only a very faint image of the aliens. But I know that they had very cliché looking brains sticking out of the back of their heads, like a 1970’s B-rated alien movie. Also, they seemed thin and papery, not quite real. Like the pale stars around us, they had no colour. No emotion, I think. We really, really did not want to become like them.
…putting it all together…
I think that I had come here to explore and because I had been promised adventure. I found myself caught up in a drama of trying uselessly to help this incompetent woman keep her child from drifting off into space. At the same time, we were nearly turned into aliens, which would have meant a removal of our emotions and an augmentation (or an alien addition?) to our brains. We passionately refused this, and it was grudgingly given.
I am wondering now about the significance of the supermarket. It was yellow, as supermarkets tend to be. We ran through it, so we didn’t get a good look. It occurs to me that there was a one-way turnstile on the way out of the supermarket: perhaps that was the only function of the supermarket metaphor. We had a chance to become “aliens.” Once we turned it down, it was a one-way trip back to our galaxy.
The alien was willing, of course, to let us stay as we were: but things would never be the same. He had thought we were friends.
I think there was one figure in the supermarket. He was in one of the aisles. I did not pay him any attention. He seemed quite large, and dark-skinned (Mexican, or similar). Anytime I direct my thoughts to him now, I feel very creeped out. I find myself thinking, “that’s not right. He was just some random guy in the supermarket.” But it’s true: when I think of him, my mind goes very dark. I get the feeling that if I focus on him…but I will not. My mind goes too dark, even now!
At any rate, I think that is a part of this. I had mentioned before that the image of my father was pale and shallow. Perhaps this was another aspect of him, left behind. It’s significant that it was left behind the turnstiles. Only the good side of him came out: the side with the mind, the side in control. And he was giving us permission to remain as we were. (but, interesting that I notice it now…not permission to leave…and by the way, we are talking about permission here. The alien…my dad…is giving me permission not to be dismembered, not to be completely remade into something I do not wish to become, something that would be death to us)
But what if I do not agree? Or he becomes angry? I feel as though this place (outside the supermarket, also yellow) has no exit, and we do not have the power to fly back to our galaxy. So are we still at the mercy of the aliens?
In the dream, they feel friendly. But as I think about it, as I said…they are in control, giving me permission…in my mind.
I realize that what is holding me there is this woman, and her child. I am not bound to the woman so much as the child. And I am intensely angry at her. “Why can’t you keep your child from floating off into space?”
I had never thought of this before. But I grew up very frustrated at my little brother for being perpetually immature (I think I still am). Like, “grow up, man!” In the past, I tried to give him advice, and counsel him. For a time, he was receptive, and even loudly complimented me in front of the youth group one day as, “a great mentor, and awesome brother.”
Am I holding on to my brother? Some hope of helping/saving him? Is that what keeps me tied into this crazy “farris-wheel” between my universe, and theirs? Is that why I allow ropes to surround us, while not really securing anybody?
It is a strange thought. I do not see how it could be true: but it may be interesting to pursue.
The next post will delve deeper into this dream, and the related one.
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