Wednesday, October 27, 2004
This Morning's Dream

I only have one recurring dream; it's about tornadoes. I've had it most of my life. It has gradually lessened in intensity since I first began having it, but early on it was absolutely terrifying. The intensity of the dreams has always closely mirrored that of my emotions regarding my dad, which has also slowly waned with time and distance.

I've always connected the tornado dream to my father. It crops up the most when he's around, or when stuff is going on that relates to him in some way. In early versions of the dream, I was always trying to round up a number of kittens and get them to safety; I don't think I ever managed it. In later versions, the kittens disappeared and it became a stressful but less frantic search for cover, usually in a basement somewhere. During this stage, tornadoes would come in groups, images of three or four approaching on the horizon.

In this morning's dream, I was in the town where I'm currently working, and the weather turned bad; we were told a tornado was on its way. We made our way casually to the basement of the building where I'm working to wait for the storm to pass so we could get on with things. After it was over we emerged and went out onto the street. While we were standing out there, a courier (like the UPS guy or something) approached me.

"Are you A__?"

"Yeah."

He handed me a couple of boxes and said, "these are your last two packages," and walked back to his truck. And that's where the dream ends.

All day I have had the unshakeable feeling that there's something important in that, something about "the last two" in connection to a dream that I regard as being about my father.
7:38 PM ::
Amy :: permalink
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