Sunday, November 18, 2007

The Pope and the wind in our subconscious

Leave it to the dreamlife to give me some blog material.

I had a dream that I was the pope- the real pope, meaning I wasn't me as the pope. And actually I might have just been some other type of clergy, like a bishop or a rector-some authority within the church order who wears white robes and carries a cross staff. And yes, I'm sure there's a much more appropriate name for it other than a cross staff. Whoever I was, I was specifically assigned to this factory slum area. There was at least one assassin out to kill me in this little community, but the church had guards posted on every street. So I was able to carry out my daily ritual of walking through the streets, being among the people and blessing everyone (And there ends my unconscious understanding of the clergy's daily responsibilities). But we all knew it was just a matter of time before I got shot. I could feel the moment getting closer and closer, and I woke up just as I thought it was about to happen.

But that was just my dream, and really a pretty common one. They are often plots involving conspiracies and chases and the like. Usually they are a bit more complicated with much more detail. And to be honest they can often leave me feeling a bit lonely, because I rarely meet anyone with such an active dreamlife who really wants to take the time to listen to all my detail. But apparently it runs in the family. This morning when I went in to get Olivia, she immediately started telling me about a dream she had:
Olivia: "Mommy, I had a happy dream. The wind lifted me up to the sky."
Me: "Wow, Olivia! Really?"
Olivia: "Yep."
Me: "And what did you see up there?"
Olivia: "I found a rectangle."
Me: "Wow. Did you sit on the rectangle?"
Olivia: "No. We just played and played."

I spent much of breakfast trying to figure out what might have happened yesterday that would have triggered such an idea, but I came up with nothing.

Later today as we were sitting outside, the wind started to blow pretty strongly, and Olivia said, "Mommy! The wind is going to lift me up to the sky again! I want to see the rectangle!"

For my own sanity, and so as not to overstep any bounds, I never try to "interpret" dreams. I'm just not comfortable assuming any kind of understanding in that area. But regardless, I think I can safely say, playing with rectangles in the sky is pretty outstanding.