Guardian Movie Stars
Dec. 2nd, 2002 11:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fabrisseYes, you read that right. It comes from the TV show Designing Women, and it's relevant because I had a really weird dream last night.
St. Joan saw saints: Margaret, Catherine, and the Virgin, if I remember correctly. These days we don't know saints anywhere near as well, but we read all about movie stars. Everywhere. I watch old movies a lot. Trust me, I'm not saying I was touched by the supernatural. However, I'm wondering if the same type of dream would have presented itself differently were I not going through a crisis in faith or had I lived in an earlier time.
Bits of the dream were very disturbing, and the farther I get from it the less I remember. So, amateur psychologists have at it.
I was at a large facility -- conference center, hotel, something -- and there's a large conference going on. It appears to be political, but it may be academic.
Side note. Every once in awhile I get these flashes of a roller coaster, specifically the chain pulling to the top of the hill. I'm dreading it. The chain keeps changing structure (rope, metal, rubber) and the track changes shape each time, but it's the same damn roller coaster and I never get to the top. In real life I'm terrified of heights and won't go on a coaster that turns me upside down. Just in case it's relevant. Insert these vignettes at random into the narrative for the full effect.
Back to the conference center. Something's wrong with both the conference and with me. I keep climbing, ramps not stairs, up to higher and higher levels in the hotel to find someone to talk to. I finally see a little alcove away from everything with standard modular chairs and a coffee table and sit down. The walls in this place are all shades of orange. In this area they're particularly dark with no windows.
Vanessa Redgrave sits down and asks me whats wrong. She's sitting across from me and actually seems interested. I tell her. (This is one of the parts that's faded by the way; I have no idea what I said.) I know that I'm expecting her to suggest something to read, probably by Trotsky. So I'm shocked when she stands up and tells me that it's impossible to feel the way that I do at the moment if I'm properly aware of my body.
She starts by rubbing her two middle fingers against her thumbs. I stand up and start to do the same thing. Then, keeping her eyes locked on mine (not easy considering our vast height difference), she tells me to rub my forehead, my earlobes, my scalp, my neck, "my piehole." Sometimes she does what she's telling me to do, but sometimes she doesn't. All of this is by showing. Then she says, "once you know this you'll be fine," and walks off.
I wander off to find my friend, the professor. Everyone is supposed to gather by the water (I think it's a lake not an ocean or river). I don't want to go, and every time I do the rubbing exercise I've been given the feeling that I don't want to go gets stronger.
I ask the professor not to go either, but he says that he has to go. He knows it's going to be bad, but he and his colleagues will probably be protected if they can just finish carving the fat and skin off the carcass in front of them. They keep covering themselves in the bits they've carved off and leave the room.
Everyone is walking down the ramps, but I'm trying to get through in the other direction. I see Ms Redgrave in the distance, she waves and tells me to find my own way, but she's ready to go where the crowd is taking her.
I keep walking up the ramps against the traffic. Marlene Dietrich in full cabaret evening dress stops me. The crowd is thinning. I tell her that my friend and his colleagues have left behind their "ambassadorial rings." She pats my arm and says ambassadorial rings are all beautiful and that's why she's left hers in her will. She doesn't say to whom she's left it.
Then I tell her that I don't want to go with everybody else, that I think something bad will happen like an explosion. What should I do, follow my friends or leave (for the first time I see that I'm near a well-lit exit door). She smiles, pats my arm, and says, very loudly, "Get out."
I start for the exit which is when I wake up.
Both the movie stars felt beneficent. They were going where they needed to go or were ready to go. I was very worried about the professor going with everyone protected only by a layer of fat and skin.
Anyone think they can help with this?
St. Joan saw saints: Margaret, Catherine, and the Virgin, if I remember correctly. These days we don't know saints anywhere near as well, but we read all about movie stars. Everywhere. I watch old movies a lot. Trust me, I'm not saying I was touched by the supernatural. However, I'm wondering if the same type of dream would have presented itself differently were I not going through a crisis in faith or had I lived in an earlier time.
Bits of the dream were very disturbing, and the farther I get from it the less I remember. So, amateur psychologists have at it.
I was at a large facility -- conference center, hotel, something -- and there's a large conference going on. It appears to be political, but it may be academic.
Side note. Every once in awhile I get these flashes of a roller coaster, specifically the chain pulling to the top of the hill. I'm dreading it. The chain keeps changing structure (rope, metal, rubber) and the track changes shape each time, but it's the same damn roller coaster and I never get to the top. In real life I'm terrified of heights and won't go on a coaster that turns me upside down. Just in case it's relevant. Insert these vignettes at random into the narrative for the full effect.
Back to the conference center. Something's wrong with both the conference and with me. I keep climbing, ramps not stairs, up to higher and higher levels in the hotel to find someone to talk to. I finally see a little alcove away from everything with standard modular chairs and a coffee table and sit down. The walls in this place are all shades of orange. In this area they're particularly dark with no windows.
Vanessa Redgrave sits down and asks me whats wrong. She's sitting across from me and actually seems interested. I tell her. (This is one of the parts that's faded by the way; I have no idea what I said.) I know that I'm expecting her to suggest something to read, probably by Trotsky. So I'm shocked when she stands up and tells me that it's impossible to feel the way that I do at the moment if I'm properly aware of my body.
She starts by rubbing her two middle fingers against her thumbs. I stand up and start to do the same thing. Then, keeping her eyes locked on mine (not easy considering our vast height difference), she tells me to rub my forehead, my earlobes, my scalp, my neck, "my piehole." Sometimes she does what she's telling me to do, but sometimes she doesn't. All of this is by showing. Then she says, "once you know this you'll be fine," and walks off.
I wander off to find my friend, the professor. Everyone is supposed to gather by the water (I think it's a lake not an ocean or river). I don't want to go, and every time I do the rubbing exercise I've been given the feeling that I don't want to go gets stronger.
I ask the professor not to go either, but he says that he has to go. He knows it's going to be bad, but he and his colleagues will probably be protected if they can just finish carving the fat and skin off the carcass in front of them. They keep covering themselves in the bits they've carved off and leave the room.
Everyone is walking down the ramps, but I'm trying to get through in the other direction. I see Ms Redgrave in the distance, she waves and tells me to find my own way, but she's ready to go where the crowd is taking her.
I keep walking up the ramps against the traffic. Marlene Dietrich in full cabaret evening dress stops me. The crowd is thinning. I tell her that my friend and his colleagues have left behind their "ambassadorial rings." She pats my arm and says ambassadorial rings are all beautiful and that's why she's left hers in her will. She doesn't say to whom she's left it.
Then I tell her that I don't want to go with everybody else, that I think something bad will happen like an explosion. What should I do, follow my friends or leave (for the first time I see that I'm near a well-lit exit door). She smiles, pats my arm, and says, very loudly, "Get out."
I start for the exit which is when I wake up.
Both the movie stars felt beneficent. They were going where they needed to go or were ready to go. I was very worried about the professor going with everyone protected only by a layer of fat and skin.
Anyone think they can help with this?
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no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 01:53 pm (UTC)That makes me think of all of us. Here we are, stupid humans, going out every day into the world protected only by a layer of fat and skin.
And I think it is possible that this dream is also saying that what is making you unhappy is related to a lack of affection and respect for your body and it's various parts. Not taking care of yourself.
Your shocked that Vanessa doesn't tell you that the answer to your problem/unhappiness is in a book. She instead points out your body, perhaps parts of it that are usually ignored. Your earlobes, your scalp.
Interesting that she would call your mouth your "piehole". Sounds to me like a bit of self-deprecation. Do you feel as though you overeat or are overweight?
Roller coaster imagery = just makes me think that you feel out of control and at the mercy of something or someone else. Something or someone who is entirely indifferent perhaps. Mechanical even. Outside machinations.
When you ask about going with your friends to what you know is impending doom, you are essentially asking if you should stay safe, do what you are continuing to do in your life. Your friends representing everyday activities and crutches that you use to keep yourself where you are? (Typing out my ass here)
And the instructions are to "Get out." That isn't very flexible, is it? That has a lot of meaning behind it. That is urgent even.
Get out of your situation. Run like hell.
So, to me it is your subconscious warning you, telling you that this is becoming urgent. *Do Something* about it.
Just my .02. ::Hugs:: Feel better soon.
no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 05:35 pm (UTC)Anyway, you've given me quite a bit to think about, and that's all to the good.
Hugs.
no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 02:04 pm (UTC)Since I'd read your post last night about exercise, light, and eating right, I'd say the dream illustrates your post fairly directly. Of course, I may have come up with other interpretations if I hadn't read your other post - this could be a case of being influenced by the other source.
I wish I was better at this, or that I could somehow help you with your struggle with depression. If I were there were you are, I'd suggest walking together since the buddy system sometimes helps with getting us going (and goodness knows I could use the exercise and light myself). I hope you find some relief soon!
no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 05:38 pm (UTC)I got a good walk in today. Not much light involved. Boston was quite dim and I didn't get out until late afternoon. But it's a start.
Best
no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 02:08 pm (UTC)i suck at dream interpretations os i won't even try. but i send *hugs* and we HAVE to get together...
no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-12-03 06:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-12-03 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-12-03 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 06:26 pm (UTC)Anyway, these ladies obviously represent other parts of yourself.
Middle fingers against the thumbs: if you do this and turn your palms towards the ceiling, it looks like a meditation pose. Also, isn't that rubbing of the face you describe part of Auyrvedic massage? "Pie-hole", is obviously your mouth--but it's a smartass way of refering to it. Why Vanessa would use this word, I have no idea. Did it sound like she was being flip? Anyway, it sounds like part of you represented by Vanessa Regrave wants you to relax.
"Ambassadorial rings" is intriguing and I can't even begin to guess that means--perhaps it refers to a ring of people? Your friends have left the secure circle you enjoy and are moving on (with or without you it sounds like).
no subject
Date: 2002-12-02 06:37 pm (UTC)I'll tell Dietrich that you asked after her. *g*