I awaken to discover it is already light. A sense of urgency grips me as I pull down the covers. My body is still groggy, but my mind races, seeking the origin of my panic. Like an invisible weight, it hits me: I'm late for class! I hastly throw on clothes, scramble through the dorm, and jog to my class on North Campus. Enduring the dissappointed stare of my professor and the questioning eyes of my classmates, I sneak in and quietly rummage through my backpack. My stomach drops and a bitter taste in my mouth decry my alarm as I see the packets of paper being dispersed. Before the final hits my desk, my hands are damp with perspiration. I can't look up, my face burns as I realize I haven't studied.
Whether it is the forgotten due date for my portfolio, the presentation that I neglected to prepare, or the final packet of calculus homework whose absence will surely result in failure, the dream takes me back to the pressure of being a student. Happily homework free for more than 5 years, I wonder at the recurrence of such dreams.
School tardiness, misdirection, and crucial tests are quite common. I did a little research and found some answers that seemed to fit my situation. Perhaps it will enlighten yours.
Exams and tests may represent a challenge. Feeling unprepared for the test represents a lack of confidence in dealing with the challenge. The sense of failure or panic at forgetting a test or assignment may indicate concern over meeting expectations (internal or external). School backgrounds often represent a feeling of insecurity or impotence.
What can you do? Seek to discover the challenge. Plan how you seek to meet the challenge. Is your lack of confidence rational? Consider how you can gain confidence. Are your expectations, and those of others, reasonable? If they aren't, don't be afraid to change them.
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
This Old House
A beautiful, mysterious Victorian era home stands out among the rows of track homes. Hidden in plain view, it is my best kept secret in the neighborhood. It beckons me, pulling at my desire for thrill and incurable curiousity. I enter it's world in the dark of night protected by the privacy of my own mind. Each time I enter, a new experience awaits. This time, will it be:
A haunted home filled with rooms, secret passages, and cool, airy expanses. The lights are low, bathed in colors remeniscent of classic film noir. I am filled with wonder, and a twinge of fear, as I cautiously explore my surroundings. Ghostly beings silently go about their tasks, aware that I am with them, yet apparently indifferent.
A run-down orphanage with sullen children dressed in period attire. My heart aches as I see the sadness and sorrow on each face. I expect to hear the warm chatter of children's voices and laughter but I hear only the worn oak floors squeaking beneath my feet. How do I set these children free?
A surreal and wild party moving to the sound of throbbing music. Beautiful people mingling in candle lit, sultry dance halls and dining rooms. The scene is captivating and alluring. Excitement and pleasure surround me, yet it feels so superficial.
A series of narrow staircases and landings lined with scarlet velvet walls. The walls are covered with old photographs in classic frames. I have a sense that I should recognize these faces. I slowly walk down each flight of stairs, loss and dispair growing with each new flight of stairs.
A diamond in the rough. Paint is chipping, windows are broken, and antique fixtures are in desparate need of repair. With each step I am confident that this abandoned house will transform into a gorgeous monument to the era when architecture prided itself on beauty, rather than mass production. Sometimes it is an inheritence, other times an opportunity to buy. Each time brings hope, streaming sunshine, and joy.
An illusion. Just like the dream itself, I enter the house, explore, and finally leave, determined to come back. When I return, I eagerly walk up the street paying little heed to the monotonous track homes that pass by. As I reach the top of the hill, my everchanging house is gone. An overgrown city lot is all that remains. My search is in vain. All that I can do is wait for my house to once again beckon, for it won't be sought out.
Do you have dreams about houses? Check out this link for ideas on interpretation.
A haunted home filled with rooms, secret passages, and cool, airy expanses. The lights are low, bathed in colors remeniscent of classic film noir. I am filled with wonder, and a twinge of fear, as I cautiously explore my surroundings. Ghostly beings silently go about their tasks, aware that I am with them, yet apparently indifferent.
A run-down orphanage with sullen children dressed in period attire. My heart aches as I see the sadness and sorrow on each face. I expect to hear the warm chatter of children's voices and laughter but I hear only the worn oak floors squeaking beneath my feet. How do I set these children free?
A surreal and wild party moving to the sound of throbbing music. Beautiful people mingling in candle lit, sultry dance halls and dining rooms. The scene is captivating and alluring. Excitement and pleasure surround me, yet it feels so superficial.
A series of narrow staircases and landings lined with scarlet velvet walls. The walls are covered with old photographs in classic frames. I have a sense that I should recognize these faces. I slowly walk down each flight of stairs, loss and dispair growing with each new flight of stairs.
A diamond in the rough. Paint is chipping, windows are broken, and antique fixtures are in desparate need of repair. With each step I am confident that this abandoned house will transform into a gorgeous monument to the era when architecture prided itself on beauty, rather than mass production. Sometimes it is an inheritence, other times an opportunity to buy. Each time brings hope, streaming sunshine, and joy.
An illusion. Just like the dream itself, I enter the house, explore, and finally leave, determined to come back. When I return, I eagerly walk up the street paying little heed to the monotonous track homes that pass by. As I reach the top of the hill, my everchanging house is gone. An overgrown city lot is all that remains. My search is in vain. All that I can do is wait for my house to once again beckon, for it won't be sought out.
Do you have dreams about houses? Check out this link for ideas on interpretation.
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Naked Truth
Have you ever drempt that you are walking around in public without clothes? It has happened to me many times. I have discovered my lack of clothing at school, on the street, and even at church. This is a common dream and I have heard many interpretations of this type of dream. A recent interpretation suggests that this dream means you have a "deep unconscious need for some hidden aspect of your being to be shown to others in its 'naked truth.'" Reference Raymond Lloyd Richmond, Ph.D., http://www.guidetopsychology.com/.
Out of curiousity I think I will research more common dreams and their suggested meanings. Check back later.
Out of curiousity I think I will research more common dreams and their suggested meanings. Check back later.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Where Dreams Begin
I created this blog to consider some of the following questions:
What do dreams mean?
Are some dreams universal?
How do dreams shape us?
How much can we control our dreams?
What can we learn from nightmares?
Many other questions are formulating in my mind. Perhaps you have a question, or even an answer. I invite you to join me as we ponder the worlds that unfold as our eyes close each night.
What do dreams mean?
Are some dreams universal?
How do dreams shape us?
How much can we control our dreams?
What can we learn from nightmares?
Many other questions are formulating in my mind. Perhaps you have a question, or even an answer. I invite you to join me as we ponder the worlds that unfold as our eyes close each night.
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