Car dreams are common. I usually dream about the road I’m on or where I’ve parked. But in the past month or so, I’ve had several dreams where I bring a car inside. On March 13, I dreamed I had a large old fashioned car, rich linen green, that I kept with me in my bedroom. It doesn’t seem to crowd me.
Then on April 28, I dream that a friend and I drive right into an art exhibit. I’m the one driving. I knock over a couple of statues in the middle of the floor. I look for a way out and only see house-sized doors. But then I’m back out on the street. My friend opens the passenger side and hands me a box of gifts, a bouquet of dark red flowers and other items.
Last night I dreamed I drove right to restaurants, up a steep hallway. I was worried about making it over something that flapped up but it was okay.
We usually talk about cars in dreams as the way we’re moving through life. I’ve brought my “vehicle” into my inner psyche. Maybe relaunching all my books—such movement out into the world—feels like a shift in how I drive myself. Just pondering. Dreams can be such a hoot.
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Marie Judson 