Crazy Life: Dreams and Dreams Again

Reams of dreams rolling through my mind
That bind me fast to my unpleasant past
Without recourse to complete forgiveness
In the business of living,
Giving no berceuse of peace for me to be
An healthy man for this old world to see
Instead of one daunted by haunted dreams
~ Jonathan David Noble

About half-way through my stay in the Samson (Alabama) Group Home, which is to say about seven to eight months, I began having very strange dreams ~ perhaps nightmares, truth be told ~ with one particular, recurring element: Alcohol, specifically trying to get alcoholic beverages, mostly in the form of ale. Again and again, I would hurry and scurry about, whether in some grocery or convenience store, attempting to purchase some ice-cold beer with the ever-present thought that I’d have to hide this from nearly everyone.

Well, for almost my entire adult life I’d used alcohol to self-medicate, along with benzos and pain-killers. By the time I’d been properly diagnosed and medicated, I’d already become an addict. In the final analysis, alcohol and drugs had ruined my life to an enormous extent. Certainly, it discolored and warped family relationships and friendships. Alcohol, primarily, had simply become part and parcel of who and what I was … tragically.

However, by this time in the group home, I’d been clean and sober for a couple of years, so I really didn’t understand the repeating theme of trying to drink in almost all of my dreams. (And, by the way, this was the first time in my life that I could actually remember most of my dreams. Before this, I could count on two hands the number of dreams I could recall.) Interestingly enough, my dream efforts to drink were always frustrated somehow, which was good, I suppose.

Restout.Jean-Bernard.1736-1796MorpheusorSleep.BRTo attempt interpretation of these dreams may prove to be folly. After all, “as one who catches at a shadow and pursues the wind, so is anyone who believes in dreams.”¹ Still being curious, though, especially since this them is ongoing, I investigated possible meanings online. One site suggested that I might be attempting to acquiesce “to some concept or circumstance,” or that I might be trying to cover up guilt and remorse.²

“Alternatively, the dream may be reflective of waking issues and problems of alcoholism. Recovering alcoholics often have dreams of drinking which results in feelings of guilt. Such dreams help to reinforce their sobriety,”³ which seems more likely to me. But why after so long being sober? Well, I suppose two years is not really that long. Besides, I also started infrequently dreaming, or experiencing flashbacks, of terrible mistakes I’d made … sins I’d committed.

I can truly say I was surprised by the suggestion that dreaming of past memories, especially mistakes and sins, indicates that I am ready “to rid (my)self of (my) old ways and undergo a transformation,” and/or that I am “ready for a new outlook in life.” If this is true, then at least these dreams are encouraging. Of course, if a memory dream included drinking, then if this interpretation is right, it would mean that I am finally ready to move on beyond past addictions. Wonderful! I believe this is true.

Now if I could only progress in a couple of other areas of my life, I might be the happiest man in the world. Still, I am very thankful that God has allowed and certainly aided me in making as much progress as I already have! And I pray you find yourself making strides forward, too! As always, peace and blessings to you!… 


¹ The Wisdom of ben Sirach 34.2 (NRSVCE)

² Possible interpretation(s) offered by www.dreamforth.com as accessed on 10/06/2018

³ Alternative interpretation provided by www.dreammoods.com as accessed on 10/06/2018

4 Ibid accessed on 10/06/2018


For previous installments in the ‘Crazy Life’ series, see…

Crazy Life: Sally Dumped and Deserted

Crazy Life: Ecclesia et Mentis Morbum

Crazy Life: Just Can’t Say ‘No’

Crazy Life: Hanging in the Balance

Crazy Life: Meeting the Mystery of God

Crazy Life: Humiliating the Already-Humbled

Crazy Life: A Little Less Crazy? But Still Guilty

‎­

Advertisements

Noble Manifesto

I will read to plant seeds of knowledge to breed wisdom untold,
And so bold, I will continue burning with a passion for learning
To be made no one’s fool or hapless tool in the long school of life
In which I will sing the living song so strong
As I carry along within a throng of humanity,
And I will be lovely for all to see, giving smiles to miles of faces,
Playing in rhythm with angels, marching through the cataclysm
Of apocalyptic terror, while fighting ‘n writing for full freedom,
And I will drop to my knees in an unadorned attitude of gratitude,
And stop to enjoy the wonder of fields flowing with bright flowers,
And even though I may blunder what I should say along this way,
I will never rue the day I was born, nor will I be at all forlorn,
But I’ll adorn myself in happy apparel as heaven leavens my soul,
And I will love with love from above, and cheer the cheerless,
With none to mourn, but all to give to live this apropos manifesto

Note: This manifesto was inspired by Patty and her own manifesto. Please read and enjoy … and thank you, Patty!

Hysterical Chimerical Dream

Sailing slowly through this hysterical, chimerical dream
Where everything is turned upside-down and inside-out,
With one long, loud shout against the banality of reality,
Forcing sun to rise at night and moon by light of the day
In the same way as ocean tides are reversed,
And chimeras ride so high in the bluest sky,
And pygmies stand tall while giants fall in valley halls,
And eagles swim and horses skim the vault of heaven
Without any fault of natural inability or immutability,
Where crocodiles are tamed into docility
With perfect facility to play through day,
And hares are none stranger for posing great danger,
While buffalo roam across Artic dome which is home
To butterflies, felines, all fine wines and porcupines,
While green grass grows atop mountains
Of honey fountains no money could buy,
And all of this is why we sigh, burn against a return
To the flipside where we were born and must abide;
So ring the bell and fare-thee-well to haunting spell;
Who can tell what joy was there
In the fair land so very far away?

Beyond the Tower

The tower stands dark and foreboding, tall and strong,
And I can’t climb the walls no matter how much I long,
And so trapped inside I cry for help to right the wrong;
So one day soon I will once again join the joyful throng

Yes, these walls stretch up into the sky
So far above me and I understand why:
That no resident will ever say goodbye

But the builder never counted on wings
To bring this man out with song to sing,
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia to God ‘n king!

So help me now my Lord, even now to set me free
To be all that you would have me be, with reverie
Beyond these cold walls for all of the world to see!

Fly High into the Sky . . . May I?

Can I spring wings and fly high into the sky
With you and leave below my heavy sigh?
Your emerald eyes are enchanting
And leave my poor soul panting . . .
But the depression still remains,
Though in assiduous repression;
Will you not take me with you this night?
Rescue me from the blight of my own sight
With you in constant view instead,
Then my heart will have been fed
From the riverbed of the Cosmos,
Drinking the cream of numinous dreams;
Will you take me with you into the stream
Of heaven and thus redeem me this night?
Oh, for just one flight with you,
Leaving this world out of sight!
Your golden-brown skin and bronze hair
Appeal but not enough to repair;
Allure but not enough to cure me;
And you look inside me like an open book
And read me, then feed me astute words
Of wisdom, but I am but a drooling fool,
Who cannot wholly understand,
And then, upset, you reprimand
Let me spring wings ‘n fly high in the sky;
Show me what it is you want me to know!
Oh, take pity and rescue me
From the City of Humanity!
Oh, tell me . . .
Can I spring wings and fly high into the sky
With you and leave below my heavy sigh?


Note: First published in September 2016, now being republished for the reading pleasure of new followers (and, perhaps, some old ones, too!) Blessings to one and all!

On the Night Train

What cargo do you carry as you come barreling through?
Is it good or ill to seal my destiny desperately or in ecstasy?
What passengers ride along and do they belong to the night
Or to the light? Are they kind enough to mind themselves?
And do you bring grain for the hungry soul or only pain?
Nothing is plain to see in such numinous rain; it’s insane!
But, then, what should one expect . . .? It is the night train