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“We are what we are because we have been what we have been.” ― Sigmund Freud

December 2, 2021

My friend’s in the field of psychiatry are not enamored of Sigmund Freud.

Growing up in mid-20th Century, the Dream Therapy of rigorous recounting and reliving of our nocturnal meanders was quite important to some in psychiatric therapy. The extreme detail of defined interpretations was made into a regimen many devoutly believed.

I know less than nothing about psychiatry, but my dreams, and those who I love, are often, well, devastating.

In unending ways, those of us who have them, live with virtual night terrors of several types. For me these spasms of fear are redundant to the point of unalloyed frustration, simply because of the power they have, even after 60 years of having them.

For me, the base reality of these night freak shows is that I screwed up. The fear of possibility become the reality of the netherworld where my base incompetencies well up to overwhelming indictment. Then there are abandonment scenarios, I am lost. Then just the frustrations of confusion and incoherence. Truly, powerfully, terrifying.

Missing in my dreams are the blissful images of flying, or sex or joy others tell me that they have in their dreams. I remember only one very happy dream of a delightful family when I was 11. I realized after an hour awake into the day that it was not true and that truth was devastating.

Dreams are not true, but they are real.

Where do they come from? Of course the studies of what they are and how dreams happen have true importance other than the cocaine fueled hard edged deductions of Freud. I have not gone into that world of understanding, but the outcomes are, to me, more important than the origins. Dreams are had by all of us, our pets, and God knows who and what else.

In a world where usefulness and meaning define existence, where what we factually have is what has allowed our species to live and reproduce, dreams seem completely useless and a waste. Like a disease or an injury, you may learn from them, maybe even gain understanding from them, but after a lifetime of terrible dreams, they seem without rational benefit to me.

Dreams are supernatural. They connect the memories we do not know we even have. They hold a depth of emotional power that has no reason to exist in the world we live in. They are completely in us, but not us.

In that way, they have the presence of a supernatural truth I can only ascribe to what I cannot understand, to God.

There is no Freudian declension or process and procedure that connects us to dreams, despite all that therapy of the last century. One human looking at the vast reality of supernatural, illogical, even bizarre impact simply can not unlock the meaning in the exquisitely painful. But I try. And fail.

So I look to God, and wonder if I can ever connect who I am, who God made me, to the hideous indictments of my dreams. I have to think that like the unending complexities, more revealed every day from unending scientific revelations of ignorance, can only have resolution in faith.

God has given me things I can never justify, never rationally define a simple logic of deduction for the miracle of all the life around us, and, of course, us. Every living cell is now understood to have uncounted realities of composition, function and origin, If every cell has no reasonable fact based creation, then dreams are the byproduct of infinite evolutions of our lives, the embodiment of the irrationally supernatural.

Imponderables are now greater, not fewer, as I understand what we do not know, but have no choice but to accept. That means one of two things: either Party On and Enjoy the Moment, or have Faith that these imponderables have a meaning I cannot understand.

I think, for me, that is the pry bar of the inevitable God in the reality of our existence. The ascription by humans to humans of Good and Evil is as absurd as Freud defining how our dreams define us. Religion is a necessary vehicle that is fully compromised by its design. But the power of Faith overcomes our humanity. That vehicle’s power source, Faith, is derived from the Grace of the supernatural, the impossible gifts of everything, including dreams.

I wish I knew what to do with that.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Janice Gruendel permalink
    December 2, 2021 8:26 am

    I like all of your writing, and this one especially.  Best love, J Love Listens. Kindness Matters. Hope Heals. Dr. Janice M. GruendelSenior Consultant, Bridgeport ProspersElders Rock & CatchAllCreativity  Research Professor, UNC Charlotte College of Health and Human ServicesFellow, Zigler Center at Yale University(c) 203-824-4766janice.gruendel@aya.yale.edu

  2. December 2, 2021 8:48 am

    Love To You

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