Dream Drive

Last night I dreamt for some reason that I got into the wrong '98 Honda Accord, started it, and discovered that it was a standard and that it had been left in reverse, so that when it started I immediately was backing up. Turned out it was Mike Swanson's car. It took me a few seconds to even comprehend I was moving, a couple more to get why, and then several more to sort out how to make it stop, all the while not knowing if there was anyone parked behind me. In the end, there wasn't. The car was parked on a level street, in a sort of old made-of-wood industrial area, a few blocks east of where I think I worked, probably Swanson, too. The deal was I didn't know he had a '96 standard Accord, and my key unlocked and started either car. I just got into the wrong one. I have no idea how I even knew it was Mike's car.

So...all you Freudians out there...how does this dream speak to my relationship with my mother, (because I thought Freudians thought everything was about everyone's relationship with their mother)? If there's nothing there, does it have anything to do with the fact that Swanson was also relieved of his job two years ago and has since landed another good one? Is there deep meaning embedded in having backed up for awhile before coming to grips with the situation, stopped the car, no harm done? Or was the whole thing just mental bric-a-brac, too much popcorn, stress release....do dreams ever mean anything? Only sometimes but not usually?

I know you're dying to know what I think, so here it is: they only sometimes bear any relation to reality, and usually not much at that. You can be feeling generally anxious (sleeping in a strange bed in a strange city, no plan for the next day or for that matter the next year), and that can find expression in about a million varieties of anxiety dream (being chased, being lost, feeling like you have to keep a huge secret, etc) but the specific nature of the dream is kind of random, as long as you're uncomfortable. Same thing for happy dreams; my personal fave is the version where I discover that if I think about it just right, hold the idea of it in my head just the right way, I can fly, levitate, defy gravity. The trick becomes enjoying that while not changing the mental frame at all...if I tell you that I can never manage that, and that the joy of flying gradually gives way to the anxiety generated by the threat of flying into power lines or passing aircraft, then promise not to share with me what you think THAT means.