Dreamwork

I had a vivid dream last night. This morning I hear the echo of Fritz Perls going: “Make sure you take ownership of the different parts of your dream.”

The dream: I pull off of the 605 freeway ..park in a gravely construction yard and walk toward a trailer-office. Inside, there’s a guy in his twenties, dressed like a hiker, carrying a gun in a holster. He’s asking the clerk behind the counter for directions .. saying he wants to see more of California ..he turns to me and asks for a ride. I reply (telepathically) “No ..because of the gun that you are carrying.” He relies (telepathically) “Yes you will ..because of the gun that I am carrying.” I concede, thinking “Hey, I’ll make it a trip to Big Sur.” As we head down the 605 freeway, toward the coast ..he asks me why we aren’t heading up the 605, and toward the I5. I say (verbally this time) “Hey ..you want to see California, right ..not just another freeway.” He sits back with a satisfied look on his face. As I’m on that long swooping connector-road at the end of the 605, heading into Long Beach ..we hit traffic and come to a halt. He looks nervous and asks what we’re stopping for. I tell him I’ll go have a look and get out of the car ..surprised that he doesn’t object. Underneath the overpass, I walk into another trailer-office, where a surveillance-team is huddled around a computer. It’s somehow apparent to me that they’re tracking my carjacker, and I feel relieved ..telling them he’s right above us. I climb back into the car, the undercover cops are somewhere behind, and without a word, my carjacker flies out the passenger door ..on a surfboard. As he hovers above the traffic, I ask the cop how he does that. He looks at me and says “we don’t know” and I feel surprised, wondering how come they don’t know that if they’ve had him under surveillance.

Dreamwork: I am the car ..I am the gravely construction yard ..mechanical and characterless. I am the young man ..I am the gun ..calm and controlling. I am the surfboard .. flying unfettered. I am the surveillance-team ..secretly tracking my impulses. I am the cop ..confused and un-comprehending. I am the question ..asking myself how come I don’t know these things about myself. I raise my head up from the desk, and think: “I just might take that trip to Big Sur after all.”

A blurb about dreamwork can be found here ~>Fritz Perls