Over the years I
have had a lot of dreams about houses. Someone once told me they
are the outer reflections of our inner selves. In short, we are the
houses. And the state our house is in is a good barometer of current
conditions. Armed with this knowledge, I was alarmed many years
ago when I dreamed that I was running around in a panic from room to
empty room of a giant old Victorian house that had lots of open doors
and windows, but no people or things.
A few years later, I was feeling
pretty smug and full of myself the morning after I had a dream about a
cozy, well-appointed house with many rooms, all of which were filled
with colorful flowers.
With those two dreams as prologue,
I wondered what to think about the one I just had a couple of nights
ago. Where I was tooling around in a submarine so large it could swamp
an entire city when it surfaced.
This was the kind of brobdinagdian [FYI: Macs don't have spellcheck on
AOL] sub you see depicted in architectural drawings where the tiny
buglike specks in the foreground are
actually people, who have only been put there to give you an
astonishing sense of perspective.
You should have been up there on the coning tower taking that baby on a
test drive with me. Like most dreams, any number of people and things
can show up without much explanation. So there was a guy from West
Point there, for some reason missing a front tooth. I remember
thinking, "Shouldn't he be a Navy man?" We weren't alone. One of my
former college roommates was there too. She has a Martha Stewart side
so she was there with a stack of Oreo cookie-like confections that she
wanted me to arrange attractively on a plate. I'm nothing if not a
multi-tasker.
Meanwhile I wanted to see what would happen when I turned the winglike
extensions on the front. Aha, they create a huge turbulence as they rotate. I
also noticed fairly quickly that when the wings rotated, I did too. I
have no memory of operating any specific controls. But I did have
control. It was my dream after all.
After having fun driving the sub around, I actually woke up from this
dream laughing to myself. Mostly because after a second or two
thinking houses and subs might be related, I realized that, in this instance, they had as
much in common as fish and feathers.
We'll leave it at that.
9 comments:
Well, I thought this was a dandy dream, although I am probably biased since I used to get paid to wonder aloud about such things (oddly, most of my patient's dreams were discovered to be about – yep, you guessed it – me). Anyway, I wanted to let you know that, as of now, the leading contender for the first item in the next posting in my blog's ongoing series "Urbane Skills: Signs You May Be Kinky" (http://heckofaguy.com/blog/2006/07/24/urbane-skills-signs-you-may-be-kinky-part-ii/) is along the lines of "You may be kinky … if your first response to the titular query of Mrs. Linklater's post, 'When Is A Sub Not A Sandwich?' has nothing whatsoever to do with Mrs. Linklater driving a submarine."
Mrs. Linklater suggests that curious and/or kinky readers may find a direct link to Dr. Guy's amusing take on life by clicking on OTHER JOURNAL DISCOVERIES.
Interesting. Most of my cohorts usually just buy a sports car or monster truck.
Fellini sent me.
You had control in your dream. Only a small persentage of persons can control their dreams. It's called a lucid dream. People who are lucid dreamers have special powers while dreaming. Most people have the ability to fly. I, myself, can become invisible. Very handy when the boogey man is chasing you.
TMI?
Due entirely to Dr. Guy's Blog -- I did not think of the maritime when I read the title to this entry. Ha!
That aside. I don't dream of houses. Caves, always caves. In the mountains mostly and I have worked out heating systems (steam mostly) ... wait. I am glad that your domicile dreams have gone mobile! When you dream of a house with wings, come visit me! ::she said as she made a note to herself to schedule the plans for a landing strip near her next dream ... ::
I used to have similar dreams except mine were about tents, but they kept recurring so I finally sought the help of a clinical psychotherapists.
She asked me to tell her about my dreams. I told her that two nights ago, I dreamed that I was a mess tent in the army, I was dull and green but made many tired, hungry people happy. Then the night before I had dreamed I was a native american teepee made out of animal skins and painted magnificently.
Without hesitation, she said, "I already know what your problem is."
I was amazed that she could make a diagnosis so quickly on so little information and asked, "You do? Just based on that?"
"Yes," she assured me, "It is obvious that you are two tents." (too tense)
Thank you thank you, I'll be here all week. Tip your waitstaff.
Chris
http://inanethoughtsandinsaneramblings.blogspot.com/
But was the submarine yellow? :p
Anna
I thought this was going to be about food...
p.s.
I meant that I was getting hungry...
what if your dream is about
a mobile home?
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