I rarely write about my dreams here (maybe never before). Partly because I think most people would rather poke themselves in the eye with a sharp stick than read someone else’s dream (because of my work, I would rather listen to a dream than poke myself in the eye); and partly because dreams are often so much more personal, more intimate than anything that happens in conscious life. I interpret and use my own dreams as often as I can. The insight from them is a big part of my waking life.
One feature that appears quite often in my dreams is wordplay. Puns, double entendres, homonyms, all sorts of tricks that my unconscious mind plays with words, I think mostly to amuse my conscious mind.
The other night I had a strange dream, which I’m not really sure I’ve interpreted accurately yet. (Btw, when this happens, I tell God that I didn’t “get it,” and that I need to hear it in another way, and then I get another one, and so on until I do get it.) In this dream, Jif and I were in a huge lake. We could not see the shore on any side, it was that big. The water was brown, the color of weak coffee. We were not disgusted by this, but a little frustrated because we could not see very far down into the water. All around us were floating pieces of lumber. Large pieces, like for home foundation building. And there was a sort of large raft that was built from these things. We knew it wouldn’t sink even though it was submerged an inch or two. We kept trying, with little success, to get up onto the raft. Adjacent to the raft was a dock, from which there rose rough wooden steps, rising up into the sky, as far as we could see. Such a sparse dream; two people, water and wood. Then I saw that very high up on the steps was a man, so high up there that we couldn’t see him at all, except to make out that it was a person. Somehow we knew who it was, though. We both acknowledged that it was Justin Timberlake.
I thought about that dream for days, wondering what it was trying to tell me. The one part that I really couldn’t integrate into any of my interpretations was why in the world Justin Timberlake would have been there.
Then it hit me. Justin Timberlake was at the top of the image. My funny brain was playing word games again. It wasn’t a pop star. It was a title. We were Just in Timber Lake.
*I changed the title of this post from the original, obvious choice, because I would’ve been inundated here with teenage boys. Plus, remember the movie trailer where the creepy kid whispers, “Lady in the water…”? Yea, well, LG and I creepily whisper that to each other, often opening the bathroom door to do so when one is in the shower, followed by screaming and laughing