Connecting Subconscious Dots

A few years ago, when I was working on a degree in English, I had class assignment to analyze a dream using Freud's method of interpretation. I have some pretty crazy dreams, some of which I don't need (or want) to consider longer than necessary. I figured this weird, but seemingly benign, dream about a couple of baby squirrels would be safe enough. As I moved along the analysis, however, it started to become increasingly, and uncomfortably, personal. It was too close to the due date for me to hope for another dream and even if I did have something else I could remember clearly, would it just turn out the same way? I figured I was in it to win it at that point, I felt bad for traumatizing my teacher. To be fair, he did come up with the assignment, so I am guessing I wasn't the first - or the last - to end up breaking into delicate territory.

As one would probably expect, the dream and analysis are included here. However, I want to disclose ahead of time that by the end of the analysis I make connections to events surrounding the death of my mother and of my infant son. This is supposed to be about the analysis of the dream, so I won't go into detail about either experience here (beyond what I explain in the analysis itself) as I am guessing what drew you to read this story was the dream analysis part and not a conversation about my personal trauma. All that said, I also didn't think it right to not disclose that particularly sensitive content ahead of time so any that might share similar experience wouldn't be caught off guard.

The following is the dream (in italics) and the analysis after that.

In my dream, I was driving down the road near my home in my own vehicle; my car was as it usually is and the road appeared as it normally does. As I was moving along, I looked to the left and saw a baby squirrel squirming around on the side of the road. At first, I was on the opposite side of the road. Then the car was stopped, idling, and the door was open. But I didn’t drive it over to the side of the road and park, I was just suddenly on the left side of the road. Reaching down from the driver’s seat, I picked up the squirrel. As I did, I noticed another and had it in my hand as well. Although I didn’t make any additional movements, I suddenly had a baby squirrel in each hand. In other words, I didn’t reach over with my other hand to pick up the squirrel, it was just in my hand when I realized it existed. They were tiny, eyes closed. There was no indication of the mother; but in the dream, I rationalized that they wouldn’t be down on the ground if she was alive. I thought that there might be more and considered looking to see if there were. But I realized that I was late and had to go. I struggled with the decision for a moment. I told myself sometimes this is all you can do. Then I drove away. I don’t know where I was going, or what I did with the baby squirrels before I was driving again (I certainly couldn’t be holding them in each hand and driving at the same time, yet I never put them down and the car was moving back down the road). I never got to where I was going, I just drove until I woke up.

Since there are a lot of small details that will probably surface as this unfolds, I will start with the most significant and confusing aspect, then work outward from there. If I were to just skim the surface of the dream, I would say the manifest content could be seen as a wish fulfilment. I have daydreamt of finding an orphaned animal that I could save. Finding two would certainly constitute Freud’s notion that dreams “... are not meaningless, they are not absurd… they are psychical phenomena of complete validity - fulfilments of wishes” (Freud 147). If I were to stop there, it would be a feasible, if shallow, interpretation of this manifest dream content. Yet, the seemingly minor details around the major event indicate the squirrels are not just meant to represent squirrels; the lack of a secure way to carry them is one example of such a detail. It seems pretty foolish that I would just hold a squirrel in each hand while driving down the road. If it was simple wish fulfillment, it seems I would have been better prepared or more invested in the situation than just to grab them and go about my business. It seems more likely that the squirrels are meant to portray something other than a pair of newborn feather-tailed rodents.

Additional pondering to consider the possible latent content, the dream-thoughts, would indicate perhaps the baby squirrels would represent some being(s) that I perceive as needing to be saved or cared for. Since I can barely manage to get out of my own way in the non-dream world; I view this as some sort of delusion of grandeur that I would be saving anything or anyone, never mind making executive decisions about how many I can handle. So my first assumption is that the squirrels might represent my children since they are the only beings I am currently responsible to provide care for. What baffles me is whether the dream squirrels would be a consolidated representation of all of my children, of only my living children, or if further pondering will reveal they represent something entirely different. The reason I question who (or what) the squirrels represent is because there is a point in the manifest content when I consider looking for more baby squirrels, then abandon the notion because of another nondescript responsibility. If they were actual squirrels in the non-dream world, I would have gotten out of the vehicle to look for more; punctuality be damned. That said, I perceive this could be my unconscious mind trying to drop a serious pearl of wisdom about not taking on more than is manageable. Freud would say, “the elements that stand out as the principal components of the manifest content of the dream are far from playing the same part in the dream-thoughts” (Freud 322). So it is entirely possible that the squirrels represent tasks rather than living things. Especially considering my dream declaration that “sometimes that is all you can do”. When I think about how it could relate to my non-dream experiences, I would note that I recently took on a heavy obligation at the church I attend. That, in addition to parenting six children with my husband, managing a home, addressing the needs of the five students that I mentor at the university, and navigating the remaining few weeks of five English classes, would constitute quite a bit of responsibility. It is possible the squirrels are being used as a way of representing things I would want to take on but shouldn’t; because even enjoyable tasks can become exhausting if one is trying to do too many at once. Freud suggests that, “condensation is brought about by omission: that is, that the dream is not a faithful translation or a point-for-point projection of the dream-thoughts, but a highly incomplete and fragmentary version of them” (Freud 299). Since I am the sort of nut that would merrily collect an entire litter of random wildlife and raise them as if they were my own children; it is reasonable that the manifest content of my dream would employ baby forest critters as an amalgamation of all of the possible tasks I would willingly engage in but probably shouldn’t.

Of course, those are surface considerations that relate to my recent experiences and current challenges. Deeper reaching could equate the squirrels to life situations or experiences that I perceive as being out of my hands. In other words, “sometimes that is all you can do” could be a manifest expression of dream-thought acceptance of events or situations that can’t be influenced. If I reach back far enough, I can single out two times in my life when decisions were placed in my hands that I truly felt were already made for me. I could not affect the outcome, I could only accept the appearance of ownership. In this case, the squirrels would represent those two events that I wished I didn’t have to experience. Freud suggests that, “analysis of a dream will regularly reveal its true, psychically significant source in waking life, though the emphasis has been displaced from the recollection of that source on to that of an indifferent one” (Freud 200). The events the squirrels could represent are certainly ones that have broken me in ways I never thought possible. Events I still haven’t truly found a way to move past and probably never will. Perhaps this is why they are being carried along during the ride that never seemed to end. If the car ride is meant to represent the entirety, or even what is left, of my life; then these two “squirrels” are such that I will carry as long as I continue this journey.

Another detail of note is that the squirrels are so young that their eyes are not yet opened. This indicates that they would be wholly dependent on me for survival. They can only exist as long as I continue to succor them. In this respect, it seems quite likely that they do represent those events that I hold as life-altering. I say this because according to Freud, “in interpreting dreams we find one condition always fulfilled: one component of the content of the dream is a repetition of a recent impression of the previous day” (Freud 201). Although I cannot recall the exact day of the dream, I know it has been within the past two weeks. One of the previously mentioned life-altering events was the birth and brief life of my son, Doyle. His seventeenth birthday recently passed. The twenty-eight days that follow invoke memories of moments shared with him. Obviously, he is never far from my mind, but this time of year my thoughts drift to him more often than usual as I spend some part of each day reflecting on those memories. It is reasonable to conclude that this latter interpretation holds merit as valid when using Freudian theory as a guideline for dream dissection. Especially if one takes into account the reasonable presumption that the drive down the road is meant to designate my journey through life. This would explain my haste to get on with the ride since time stops for no one.

Further exploration of the vehicle/driving component of the dream indicates a logical connection to the assessment that it is meant to depict my life as I am travelling it. The illusion of being in control is shown by my presence in the driver’s seat. The fact that I felt compelled in the dream to move on rather than take time to search for additional squirrels suggests that time is actually in charge of the events. In non-dream existence, I would not allow a schedule to prevent me from doing something I felt was important. My compulsion to submit to the authority of that time expectation seems to imply that it was not within my ability to resist following that predetermined schedule. That is to say, the true control of the situation lies in time itself. My journey (or anyone else’s) will continue on until it reaches the end of its time. I can direct from the driver’s seat as best I can, but where I pause along the journey is the extent of my actual control. I don’t even necessarily need to hang on to the wheel. In fact, in those specific moments, I had zero control. I was moving down the path in tandem with the journey of another. The first being my son and the second my mother. (I suppose it wouldn’t be a real Freudian analysis without some mention of my mother, right?) I was the last person to hold both of them in this life. The manifest representation of this would plainly be me holding the squirrels in my dream. I still carry them both with me, I always will. But, as my dream-thought was expressed in the need to continue driving, I could not stop my own journey. Perhaps this is where the wish fulfilment aspect of dreaming is expressed. There is nothing I wish for more often than the chance to hold my son or to hug my mom one more time.

Perhaps there is some merit to the idea that dreams hold deeper meaning than just, “...an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, [or] a fragment of underdone potato” (Dickens 187) as Ebenezer Scrooge would proclaim prior to the ghostly visits in A Christmas Carol. Clearly, after considerable analysis, what started as a nonsensical squirrel rescue became an unexpected journey into my past; what I thought was a light, somewhat silly dream managed to turn into quite the paperweight. Apparently there is at least some truth to the statement that “[d]reams, then, are often most profound when they seem most crazy” (Freud 452). In fairness, I never expected to arrive at these conclusions and I apologize for any point where these observations cause discomfort. By the time I realized I was venturing into such heavy territory, there was really no turning back or redirecting it. Difficult as it was, it was a powerful experience to delve into a seemingly meaningless collection of unconnected dots and uncover an unexpected portrait of my past.

Works Cited

Dickens, Charles. Charles Dickens: Five Popular Abridged Stories. Exeter Books, 1987.

Freud, Sigmund, and James Strachey. The Interpretation of Dreams. Basic Books A Member of the Perseus Books Group, 2010.