My Dream Tonight and Last Night

I had two vivid dreams the last two nights. They were so vivid, and both involved my heart quite deeply, that I woke up emotional. I can’t figure them out, as usually my dreams are related to happenings in my day, and are oppresively mundane as well as bizarre. These actually had some internal sense. Here goes:

The night before last I dreamt I was a young man. I was at a “dance”. It was a type of elaborate square dance where people kept switching partners. We were in a large, strange building, that resembled a warehouse, it was all painted a sterile white, and somehow left me with a very strong feeling of unease. There was one restroom–it was painted bright red, was state-of-the-art, and coed. I felt very uneasy, though I couldn’t explain why. Then I went back to the dancing. Something about the dance bothered me, though it was very unsensual, the rapid swapping of people felt too significant. Then I realized (in the sense that only works in dreams) that our dance was an elaborate spellmaking–we were weaving dark magic with scientific precision. There was no mystery in it, but I felt that it was evil, and I fled the warehouse. I was walking down a muddy road. The sky was as bleak white as the ceiling of the warehouse, and there was one dull dirty street after another, with people walking quickly and not looking into eachother’s faces. Then I saw a trampled icon of an angels. It had been a large, lifesize icon, and someone had broken it into pieces. I saw a piece of the wing, the face, and another face and torso. It was painted in the Medieval Russian style…like Andrei Rublev). There was mud across the face. I stepped over it as everyone else had done and continued walking. The dullness of the streets continued. I realized that I had to go back to the warehouse-dance-place, there were no other options. I turned to go back, and there before me was a girl child. She was a beautiful child, four of five years old, chubby, goldenhaired, with a healthy complexion and the most beautiful dark little eyes looking so large in her chubby face. She had picked up the three pieces of the broken icon, and had been waiting for me. I looked at her, and she was the first fair thing I had seen in this dreary, dull, magic-scientific mindless world. There was a wonderous beauty about her, and a brightness, I stared at her and realized she was dearer to me than everything else in this world. My love for her squeezed my heart, I wanted to kneel before her and never leave. I remember thinking “she is worth more than all the worlds.” But she handed me the broken pieces of the icon, and gave me a mission somehow. I turned to look at her, and walked back to the warehouse. I realized she was sending me on a mission of some sort. I had a purpose now, and I knew it, I had to take the broken, trampled icons back to the warehouse and show them to the people. I felt somehow I was in danger now, something was different, something was in the balance, but now, the feeling of danger was nothing compared to the joy and the longing. I wanted to run back to the child, but she was gone. I walked towards the warehouse, and the road was still dull, but I thought of the child, and recalled that the sky around her was not white, but vivid blue. The name “Rebekah” kept running through my head, realized that child must have been the matriarch Rebekah, the mother of Israel.
THE END

Ok….I realize that a blond chubby child is in no way Semitic, and that the figure in my dream could not be the Jewish Rebekah, my namesake. The funny thing is, when I woke up to reality, I still had this love in my heart, so vivid that I physically felt this warmth/weight on my upper ribcage, on my chest. (I had that sensation after reading The Brothers Karamazov, and had tried to describe it by saying I felt like there was an infant sleeping in my heart). However, that “rebekah” child in my dream, despite her youngness, had an authority and a wisdom about her that made me obey her without question.

+++
THE Second Dream (which I had tonight)

I was a young woman, late twenties, single. I had one family member, a older female relative–I think an aunt–who visited occasionally; my aunt was a Korean careerwoman who did not aprove of my low marks. I was living in an urban jungle, some apartment. It was an awkward situation with this Korean aunt (btw, who does not exist in real life). I wasn’t doing well in school/my job, there was some stress. I worked on the upper floor of an old library, and lived in a small apartment with concrete steps. I had a handful of acquaintances including a guyfriend who commiserated with me about our stressful job in the library, but I really had no real friends. I was alone. On certain days, I would go out on the back door of the skyscraper apartment, and wait on the concrete steps. It was my rendesvous with a small girl child. She was six or seven, with long golden hair. She had such delicate features, and was thin and small. I would wait for her, she would come, and I would carry her on my back around the concrete stairs. We would talk. Then I would let her down, and we would, hand in hand, go up to the top of the sky scraper and get out on the roof, looking at the skyline. There was alot of pollution and smoke, but we would look at it nonetheless. I would play child’s games with her–duck duck goose and tag, though they were a little different as there were only the two of us. Then she would sit in my lap, and we would talk about inconsequential things. I would often complain about my stressful life, my lack of purpose, my lousy job, my awkward/strained relationships. She would listen gravely, and hug me with her little arms, and I would feel peace. She was like a little mother to me. Though she was so little, there was a careworn, almost maternal aspect in her small face. Then she would leave, walking back down the concrete stairs to her family’s apartment somewhere else in the concrete jungle. They were a very low income family–we all were (except for my aunt)–and I knew her father was dead and her mother was remarried and a harsh woman. I never heard little girl-child complain about them though.

I was waiting for her one day by the steps, especially longing to see her because my aunt had just visited and let me know she thought me a failure, etc. But my little friend did not show up. I waited again the next day, and became very anxious, sitting in the dreary apartment hallway, waiting for that small child to come climbing up the large steps. But she did not come. I finally stood up, to go on the roof alone. Then suddenly she was there, but she was all silver-white, with no color in her. She looked like a ghost. I scooped her up in my arms, and she was warm as ever, not cold. I hugged her to myself. She told me that she came to say goodbye, because she had died. She came to say goodbye, and tell me she loved me, and could no longer come to our rendesvous, because she was leaving this world. I asked her what had happened, she told me her grown up step-brother & mother had beaten her to death, but she told it to me with so much matter-of-factness, no bitterness, a small childlike acceptance, with sadness. I felt no anger from her, but pity for her abusive relatives. I begged her to stay, but she had no choice but to leave, and gave me one last hug. Then she was gone. I started sobbing, and talking aloud to a bored neighbor how my little friend was worth more than everything else in this world & all the people in it. And why is it that worthless people like her abusive relatives could not even see the worth in her and discarded her as worthless when she was the only thing in this world that was so valuable. I was sobbing, and saying I lost my only treasure. Even as I sobbed, I felt her preciousness so intensely, that my heart was full of a love that was like that weight/warmth on my chest.
THE END.

OK….that dream is very strange, isn’t it? In both dreams, I am not myself, but a twenty-something-year-old protagonist without a purpose in life. In both dreams, I woke up to reality with this love in my heart that was so intense. And both dreams came OUT OF THE BLUE as I was not thinking about anything vaguely related to either dream when I went to sleep. What make you of this? I cannot figure it out.
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2 thoughts on “My Dream Tonight and Last Night

  1. I can’t figure it out either, but they seem like fitting dreams to have around the Feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (yesterday, that is, Wednesday. Old Calendar.).

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