This week I’d like to share a dream I had that might be meaningful.
I was at a party somewhere and decided to take a break. I wandered to a small cafeteria near the edge of the party. For some reason, John Carpenter, renowned film director, was working there behind the counter and we started talking. I ordered a slice of cheesecake from him because something about it seemed important.
This may seem rather obscure, but for me, the meaning of all this was quite clear. As an old man, John Carpenter was probably a figure of guiding wisdom meant to tell me something important. If I was going to see a film director in my dreams, David Lynch would actually be a more appropriate choice. Most of his films, and his TV show Twin Peaks, are very interested in dreams and characters often take their dreams seriously. It was as if my dreaming mind didn’t dare conjure up David Lynch himself, so it went for another film director instead. (Later, David Lynch finally did make an appearance in one of my dreams, but that’s another story.)
In that context, the slice of cheesecake was also easy to interpret. I’ve read theories about season 3 of Twin Peaks concerning how different characters treat food. The good ones often eat donuts, cherry pie, and other sweet-tasting foods and enjoy life’s simple pleasures. The bad guys (Mr. C, for instance) tend not to enjoy their food.
This all gave that slice of a cheesecake a very clear meaning. For me, at least, it was a symbol for enlightening knowledge. My choice to order a cheesecake was a request to John Carpenter to tell me something important.
The next thing I knew, John and I were in a taxi heading somewhere. It was dark, lit only by the orange streetlights and the lights inside the taxi. As we talked, I didn’t even care where we were going, I just had a sense that John Carpenter’s time was valuable and I was lucky to be talking to him. I told him about my troubles, hoping for some advice from an older man who’d become successful himself. He simply nodded sagely, indicating that he’d gone through much the same things as I had. It was comforting to know that John Carpenter had faced the same things I was facing and succeeded. Perhaps that was all I wanted to know.
As he continued to talk, John Carpenter ran a pencil down my back, digging into my flesh. It wasn’t enough to seriously hurt me, but it was painful. Thinking that he was imparting some lesson, I braved the pain and withstood it until he was done with the pencil. I felt proud of myself.
I woke up. It was only afterwards I realized that I’d been so focused on the pain of the pencil that I hadn’t heard what John Carpenter said!
If someone you trust gives you advice, make sure you listen, even if it’s painful.
Thanks for reading,