Friday, February 2, 2018

Sometimes a cigar . . .



      The other day I was driving my 9th-grader to school. As is often the case, we were driving in silence (he doesn't like having the radio on). But, as is also often the case, out of the blue, he said "I'm wondering . . . ." "Yes? You were wondering?" I prompted. He said, "I'm curious as to what it means if someone has the same dream over and over?" I said that I thought it probably meant that the person was trying to "work on something" in their subconscious, but that it wasn't getting resolved. And then I asked him, "Are you having the same dreams over and over." "When I was a kid, but not any more" he replied, "I was just wondering" (which he often does).
       "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar . . ." Sigmund Freud is reported to having said when asked about a cigar in a dream. (I didn't go into that whole thing on the way to school!) But the question of dream-interpretation has fascinated me (and others) for a long time.  I remember many years ago, when I was in seminary, that one of my psychology classes had a session or two on dream-work. I think THAT particular psychological "school" believed that the "important" message from a dream was found in when the "dreamer" exited the dream. That is, the point at which the dream ended held the meaning (i.e., the cigar gets lit). Then, there's a Jungian theory that the various people in a dream represent various parts of ourselves, and the interactions (and resolution) have something to say about what "we're working on" (i.e., the man smoking the cigar represents a certain part of me that is "smoky"). And, then, of course there's the theory that sometimes a cigar ISN'T a cigar.
       But there is an entirely different kind of dream interpretation, one that has a much longer history than those suggested above. And that, of course, relates to dreams being messages from outside the conscious (or subconscious) self, i.e., from a divinity. Ancient texts are full of these kinds of dreams. And usually they're "interpreted" as predictive or calls to action. In late antiquity, Plato and Aristotle discussed dreams; Artemidorus wrote a manual of dream interpretation, the OneirocriticaIn the Joseph account in Genesis, Joseph is given insight into the Pharaoh's dream -- predicting that there'd be years of good harvest, followed by famine (Genesis 41). Joseph is warned in a dream to take Mary and Jesus to Egypt to escape from Herod murderous intent (Matthew 2.13). 
      Dreams were so important that their absence was not a good thing, and indicative of wider problems than just those of the individual dreamer. This is so clearly illustrated in the 5th-century BCE prophet Joel. The situation to which the prophet speaks is one in which a locust plague has decimated the land (described as a day of darkness and of gloom). But, the prophet says that, after the destruction, God would restore the land and its animals. AND, after that God would "pour out [God's] spirit upon all mankind. Your sons and daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions (Joel 3.1). The picture is one of hope for the future; the presence of God's spirit, dreams and visions presaged good.

       I continue to wonder about dreams. And I go back to my son's question about dreams in general, and, in particular, about multiple iterations of the same dream. What if they weren't just windows into the subconscious?  If we listened to them differently, might we a look through a window into a possible (good) future. In a culture filled with dystopic "bad dreams" filling our "big screens", how might some positive dreams presage a better future? Of course, we'd have to take action . .  .
        What are the dreams we dream?

Namasté,

Gary

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