Since I am completely done with graduate work...FOREVER, I was able to take a nap this afternoon. Of course my dreams unleashed anxieties and irritations in various unconscious adventures. I am a HUGE believer in the Collective Unconscious and dream interpretation a la Jung and Freud; therefore, dreams are worth exploring to understand what my brain is trying to tell me when I cannot get in the way. (Please don't misunderstand. I do not believe a person can simply go online and type in "clock" to see what a "dream dictionary" says it means. That is rubbish and a waste of time. It's more useful to look into historical symbolism of all aspects of a dream then apply them to my life not generalize how they would work in all lives.)
This particular dream threw me into an Austen-style cottage with my husband and son on vacation (no big surprise since I'm currently reading
Sense and Sensibility). After a myriad of events (on the surface very random-in my dream making all the sense in the world), I was confused, angry, and ready to run away from everything happening. Then who should appear, Russell Brand who sat with me and rationalized a lot of what was happening to me in my life/dream. Okay, let's step back and think about this for a moment. The person my unconscious chose to dispense logic to my conscious was Russell Brand:
One more time to recap: Russell Brand is the form my OWN UNCONSCIOUS MIND chose to be a voice of reason. If you don't know who this man is or know of him but nothing about his life, please
Wikipedia him at least. Then perhaps you'll see the irony in all of this.
Don't get me wrong. I am a fan of Mr. Brand. I loved
Forgetting Sarah Marshall because of him. It's just I'm not a fan of his like I am of Colin Firth or Alan
Rickman or James
McAvoy or Orlando Bloom. So why this particular British superstar? That's what my conscious mind will be trying to decode for a while.
OH, THE IRONY!!!!!
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