Once, this past fall actually, I dreamed that I was in my kitchen, barefoot, pajama-clad (all stripes, and then the salmon-coloured T-shirt I spat gold and green designs onto, my hair the hair of four am) and here I was, in my kitchen (the cherry felt pot holders, the Artist magnetic poetry, a fifth of our states consorting on my fridge as magnets), and I was boiling water. For egg noodles. And I thought, Should I cook tomato sauce for these egg noodles, or should I not? (And in present day, also that morning: What a stupid, stupid question—tomato sauce?—of course, I need a cream-based sauce, mushrooms yes, beef or sour cream or condensed cream of chicken soup.) But in the end, I’m pretty sure I made the tomato sauce and served it with the egg noodles.
This is the mundanest dream I have ever had. Ever. And it would seem as if the dream merely concerned what I was most likely thinking about approximately two minutes before I fell asleep, that is: what to cook for dinner Friday, but the Predictions Dream Dictionary courtesy of the internet assures me otherwise. Apparently, “When dreams contain this powerful image [of water] in any of its forms, understanding the role of the water is essential.” Perhaps, then, it is necessary to examine my boiling water.
According to the Predictions Dream Dictionary website (which simultaneously advertises both a preview of Slumdog Millionaire and a new drug called Sensa, for pear-shaped women), water can represent both danger & tumult, and security and an essence of its own primordial life-giving force. Controlled water, which I suppose is water contained in a saucepan, boiling at level 8 on the dial, means new life, refreshment, and vigor. Because I experienced a vast rebirth the next morning, woke up a new girl, rejuvenated and ready to rumble, I feel like this is an accurate representation of my dream. Except that totally didn’t happen.
Which makes me think: wish fulfillment. (Hello, Freud.) Admittedly, I’m completely the type of girl who gets a certain thrill out of watching water boil, who loves the sound of it, is mesmerized in some strange Narcissus-esque way and is drawn to break the surface, run her fingers through the raging bubbles and feel the pulse of rolling water. But: this didn’t happen in the dream, instead I boiled egg noodles. Which makes me think: perhaps I am represented in these egg noodles, and yes—I can see myself in the many, in the flat, curling and relaxing in the steam. The question then becomes: What is tomato sauce? and I ask you: What is tomato sauce, ever? My friends, tomato sauce obviously indicates the receiving of a letter. Or, that’s what The Illustrated Dictionary tells me, or what I can access of it via Amazon.com. Now is the time that I’d be keen on paging back through correspondence and matching dates to journal entries—but I don’t date my journal entries anymore, and there’s a reason: sometimes a pot of boiling water. Is just a pot of boiling water.
Very interesting writing! Well I just read – on the internet, so of course it’s true
– that dreaming about boiling water could signify turmoil in your life. Or stuff from your subconcious is surfacing.
Of course, it could just signify nothing at all!