Recurring Dreams

I have an active dream life and have many recurring dreams. The themes that repeat themselves include bad actors from the past, being in school, waiting tables, moving in or out of a home, being lost, and oddly enough, Henry Rollins. This morning, I was waiting tables again (as I did in the 90s), and the guy behind the service bar was Mikey B. whom I had worked with back in the day when I lived in DC.

In the dream, I was focused on a little container of toothpicks that was sitting on the bar. It’s hard to remember now, but there was something in there with the toothpicks—something circle-shaped, like Fruit Loops. And I was thinking that you could actually push the toothpicks through the little circles, as if you were beading a necklace. Why would anyone do this? I don’t know. But that’s where my focus was in the dream.

When I woke up, it reminded me of a conversation I had with a patient yesterday. During her therapy session, I was having her do an exercise to identify her passions, values, and interests. And in doing so, she said she valued “sensitivity” to others’ feelings and went on to explain. In response, I said, “Isn’t that kindness?” And in light of her saying she thought that kindness and sensitivity were two different things, I asked for an example.

She said kindness would be giving a computer to someone who couldn’t afford one, but sensitivity would be not making fun of them for being poor. I found this bifurcated train of thought fascinating and pointed out her extremely narrow focus. I responded that anyone who would make fun of someone for being poor is simply not kind, and the person who would do so is probably only donating the computer as some sort of performative display—to make themself look good. Or it could also be some kind of manipulation—to get something later on.

I then talked about how when our focus is too narrow, we can miss out on the bigger, more significant picture. If she focuses on the person donating the computer instead of their making fun of the poor recipient, or if I focus on toothpicks at the bar instead of the whole scene, we can overlook important dynamics at play. I often point out to my patients that they are spending too much time focusing their psychological “flashlight” in one direction when, in fact, the thing they are looking for is somewhere else.

There are certain personality styles that focus too much on the micro and not enough on the macro. In general, it’s the anxious person who may obsessively focus on minutia—the inconsequential—while losing sight of the larger scene. Recently, my brother told me a story about a woman who was having a dinner party and basically ruined the fun for all involved because she was obsessed the meal didn’t turn out perfectly and wouldn’t let it go.

When we shine our flashlight in the wrong direction, we can miss important things, resulting in negative consequences for ourselves or others. To emphasize this point in a session with a patient one day, I actually got out a flashlight from a nearby drawer to demonstrate how she was only shining the light THIS way when, if she had simply turned around and shined it THAT way, she could see what was outside of her awareness. She could see another answer, another reality, another path forward.

In my dream, I was focused on the toothpicks. Maybe it was a sign I need to be shining my flashlight elsewhere? At this point, I’m not sure, but I will try to widen my perspective and consider the periphery. Five years from now, it will probably all make sense, and I will think of the Kierkegaard quote, “Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.” That’s been my rule for a while now…keep moving forward, and the answers will come.

Next
Next

17-Year Wait for a Roast Beef Sandwich