First Recall

This is the first dream I can remember, vividly: it was in the early 1990s.

The Dreamer is outside at the park during the early night.

He is with his friends at the swing set. They all swing and have fun. Then the other kids start to swing higher and higher and to do risky tricks like momentum backflips. The Dreamer is scared. Then there is a giant living presence: it is dark. At first it is unseen and only felt. Then it is all the Dreamer can see: it is globular, made of sticks and other woven organic material. It has a heartbeat. The Dreamer gets closer and closer, or it gets closer to the Dreamer, and the heartbeat gets louder and louder, until the two are one and there is only the feeling of It and the vastness of space. Then the imminence of the heartbeat softens and fades.

Context: I was 8-10 years old when I had this dream. It was a recurring, terrifying, nightmare. I would wake in a terrible panic, often with a nosebleed.

Associations: The other kids would do these tricks, but I was always afraid to get hurt. It made me feel weak not to try, but the presence made me feel strong in a different way, an alien way.

Feelings: fun, terror

Interpretation: This is a dream about an early attitude towards the unconscious. It has an Icarus-ness about it: the other kids at the playground swing higher and higher and tempt fate, but the Dreamer is afraid of those physical risks. He stuffs that fear inside, like a ball of wax, or sticks, but that fear — the panic — has its own heartbeat that the Dreamer cannot escape. He is forced to confront it, or it confronts him with a certain imminence. And once he is one with it, it fades.