On Dreaming (#3)

Warning! Remember, once you read this, it cannot be unread. The dream I am about to share will require you to look past the characters, which really are just temporary placeholders, and the minor details, which are more universal than most people are willing to admit. Instead, focus on the deeper revelation about me, because it is critical to understanding an emotional challenge that I have been facing for so long. One that I would finally like to overcome.

Because, in the end, that is why I had this dream: to draw focus on a longstanding shortcoming of mine.

And I am hoping that sharing this dream might inspire courage in me to change.

(Though, I am sure some of you might end up simply being amused--or disturbed--by all of it. That is the price of "exposing" oneself, I guess.) 

(I spent more time searching for an image than writing this post--I deemed my first choice not ready for prime time. However, I finally settled on these two by William Orpen. There is something interesting and beautiful about both. Slightly haunting, and intriguing. I don't know exactly. But I am glad I found them. Both women appear to have a story to tell, too--when they are ready.)

I was standing in a dingy, disheveled living room like setting, with a large sectional couch occupying one corner of the room. It is very important to note that the room was not a grimy, filthy type of mess, but rather objects strewn about like obstacles type of disorder. One side led up a few steps into a split level of a house that was hidden by dark shadows, the other was an entry to a brightly lit bathroom, with a torn curtain barely covering the opening. On the couches sat judges--yes, in the dream I knew their occupations. Among them I perceived at least one woman and one man; the others were indistinct. In the room, standing near me, were two other people: a woman from my present (whom I know would find all of this humorous, but would never judge me for it), and a young man from my past (who was kind hearted, good natured soul). 

(Remember, these characters are merely placeholders). 

And here is the interesting part: we were expected to strip naked, and none of us thought that was inappropriate. In fact, we knew it was necessary to stand nude before the judges: their critiques were important to the three of us, for some reason.

For a split second, in the dream, I did dread it, but the realization came that I could disrobe in front of the judges sans the other two people.

(And in the dream, I was comfortable with that fact._

Then the young man next to me removed his pants, revealing his penis. My only thought? I was not the least bit surprised that he was well endowed. In fact, it made perfect sense. Surprisingly, I did not feel diminished by the revelation. 

Remembering that we would be considered one at a time, the woman and I decided to leave the young man to stand before the judges first. She and I moved over to the well-lit, doorless bathroom.

Immediately, I found myself and the woman together next to a toilet and sink, removing our clothing. But at that moment, another woman, that I know from outside the dream, appeared right outside the tattered and shear curtain barely covering the doorway.  Then began that awkward dance of trying to stretch the flimsy barrier, while pulling down my pants. 

(Not the first time I have had to do that in a dream.)

At that moment, the other woman made her way out of the bathroom, into the shadowy spaces beyond the living room area. I followed. Dim light, as if filtered through heavy curtains, barely  revealed the other rooms. We picked our way among displaced furniture, and empty cardboard boxes strewn across the floors. And while doing so, we attempted to remove our clothing. However, as we wandered from room to room, we found more people. We still wanted to stand before the judges, but we wanted to stick to the rule that we could do so alone.

Then, as I entered another space, I realized the woman I had been following was gone. In her place stood the male judge from the beginning of the dream. Immediately I felt that I was standing before a professional, someone who understood his job (to study naked people), and critique them properly (that is, fairly and accurately, without bias or discrimination). He was not there to humiliate me, but to confer an accurate analysis of my being.

Alone in the room with this authority, I finally felt comfortable. I was ready to bare myself. To be judged.

And then I woke up.

(If you want to find out what the dream was all about, I will have the explanation next week, right before the election.)