John: Like yours, my dream portrays an imbalance (for Jeane’s dream, see You Can’t Get There From Here), but it seems to have more detail about how I’m wayward. For you it was trying to pull something together between responsibilities at home, and being able to hear and understand what’s directed toward you; those two things didn’t seem to take each other into account.
In my case I’m dealing with being scattered, not quite able to pull through what needs to be recognized and seen. The way this dream starts is with me driving my car to where the street ends. There are houses on either side owned by the same person. But he doesn’t own the street. I have access and, not even knowing what area I’m in but knowing I have a right to be there, I decide that’s what I’ll do: I park at the curb.
I feel that my car is somehow within the umbrella of his overall space. There are lights on at both buildings, so it’s not like my car is sitting in the dark. It’s okay for me to leave it there, but at the same time it doesn’t feel right.
As I do this, I’m debating how best to hold this space along this road. I contemplate placing a spare tire a car’s length from the car. Somehow the spare tire (which is a signal that I’m not handling the car very well) will help further establish my claim to this roadway.
I decide that the tire idea is ridiculous, but I still park there. The owner of the buildings sees this and steps out to see who I am. When I introduce myself I also provide him with my particulars, i.e., telling him my addresses and phone numbers in both places I live. Because I’m so far away from my residences, it feels as if my memory of them is falling away. It takes effort to remember the information – I’m that far removed.
I’ve left the car in an area I know nothing about. I park in front of the doors to the two buildings, leaving enough room for someone to walk out of the house and across the street directly behind the car.
The problem I have with what I’m doing is that it feels like I’m imposing. The area is peaceful and quiet, but now my car will cause people to take account of it each time they look out their windows. So it’s going to affect the feel of the area.
The car also complicates their ability to feel good as they go back and forth across the street. They’ve had free flow between the houses for quite some time, but I suppose that had to end at some point because they don’t control the road in between.
What has changed is that the car has created an energetic imbalance that can’t be ignored, and it upsets the quiet setting. This state could exist indefinitely because part of me is just going to leave it there and I don’t know if I’m ever coming back.
One way this could be looked at is that I’m spreading myself too thin, i.e., I’m between two places (the two buildings in the dream and our two homes in real life). That can be discombobulating. There needs to be a thread or path (the road) that makes sense of it all, but now there’s an imbalance in the path (the car).
The car is an aspect of me, the vehicle I use to navigate this life. It doesn’t know where to park itself. It can’t park in either place (the houses) and, if it parks in the roadway, how does a person reconcile that? There’s a certain degree of light that can shine on it, as if it’s under a watchful eye, but it intrudes upon the balance of the scenario inside one’s self. So this is showing me that an intrusion exists that’s affecting how the inner (the car) and the outer (the homes) come together.
Every time the inner looks at the outer, the inner is stuck between the quiet of a peaceful state and the intrusion in the vibration that it hasn’t yet consolidated, or taken into account, or accepted.
In a sense, by making myself accountable to look out for the affairs of another (the owner of the houses), I’m going away from who I am. I’m losing my free flow. I’m already lost but now I’m apt to see how lost I am and it’s a type of lost where I might not be heard from again, because I even forget my addresses and phone numbers.
My path should be twined together by the mode of transportation that lies parked between an inner and outer connection. It’s a bridge. There’s recognition of a gap that I have to pay attention to; this gap actually hurts the heart. I might not have realized it, having figured out a way to jump back and forth between these places, thinking nothing of it, but now, all of a sudden, I’ve become aware that there’s interference.
This in-between state hurts the heart because I now identify the roadway as being an intrusion, which is keeping the inner and the outer from pulling the space together, i.e., holding the space in an overall way.
So I’m interfering with my own development by not leaving a clear space (the path). This dream causes me to try to resolve what is a very awkward feeling inside.