I have a recurring dream that it’s the end of the university semester and it dawns on me that I’m enrolled in a subject I didn’t know about. Its sudden presence on my subject list sends me into mild hysterics.
I’ve never attended a tutorial for this subject. Or done any of the course material. I must have long overdue essays — but when exactly were they due? What are they supposed to be about? Is there any chance of redemption this late in semester?
What do I know about the subject? It’s often an art class. Sometimes it’s a religious studies unit. The lecturer, I’m somehow aware, is an intimidating old-school professor, who can’t be trusted to grant leniency if I suddenly turn up declaring I still have intentions of passing.
That’s if I can even find the room. To my knowledge, I’m looking for a classroom across the other side of the campus, so far away that, by the time you trek there, the university has morphed into my old high school.
The realisation that I may fail this subject sends me into a tailspin. I’ve hitherto had a handle on the four subjects I knew I was taking. I’ve attended lectures, done group work, written essays. But if I can’t somehow save this mystery subject, my whole semester will be tarnished. No, my academic train ride will be completely derailed.
The dream proceeds in many weird ways from here. Feeling a bit like Josef K from The Trial, I get lost in the hallways of these towering university buildings, as their walls close in on me, or I go through doors into empty rooms. Often, I struggle to force my way through large crowds of people milling about in corridors. Other times, I look for an exam room, thinking it’s my answer to passing. I don’t find the exam room, so I can’t sit the exam. And I never make it across the campus to speak with the professor.
I’m not the first person, of course, to have variations of this dream. (See here and here for some discussion about this). I would suspect it’s fairly common among, well, anyone who’s ever been to school, university or had to deal with numerous deadlines. So, basically the whole population.
What does it all mean? As a disclaimer, the following are merely my interpretations. But there’s a few clear themes that I notice in this recurring dream that are relevant to my life.
A need to be conscientious and “in control”
The scenarios in this dream are about what happens, actually, when control is lost, despite conscientiousness. The reality of life is that you can only control what you can control. Could I have read my subject list all the way to the bottom? Maybe — or perhaps the universe (or, at least, the university computer system) has thrown a random curve ball at me, reminding me that you can’t master the universe (or said university computer system) simply by making plans to.
Perfectionism: a need to pass everything, without any blemishes
Related to the above, this, too, is about “control”, but it’s also about setting high expectations. Too high expectations. Maybe having missed this subject is not the disaster I make it. Perhaps the professor will help me catch up. Even better, perhaps he’ll fail me, I’ll realise that it’s not the end of the world and I’ll retake the subject next year, ready to deepen my understanding of Cubism or Zen Buddhism. Maybe a blemish will help me grow.
A sense of unfinished business
The fact that this mystery subject appears to me at the end of my list suggests “the job’s not done yet”. Whatever that job might be. Of the themes I’ve explored, this probably resonates the most with me. I went to university straight out of school, aged 18, with decent intellectual capabilities, but very much still a child. My ambition was to keep studying, get a PhD and become an academic.
I passed all my subjects in my bachelor degree, but somewhere along the way, lost confidence in my abilities and succumbed to distractions. I declined an offer to do a higher degree by research and enrolled in a teaching diploma. Fifteen years later, after another diploma and a career in journalism, I returned to do that PhD. Finishing it at 39, after four years of research, was the completion of that unfinished business that had weighed on my mind since my early 20s. I’ve had the dream less frequently since.
On the other hand, the dream could also be a simple reminder that there’s always unfinished business — always something that needs doing.
Everyday stress of deadlines and due dates
On a similar note, this dream speaks to the juggling act that is life. We’re always tending to things here, responding to other things there, at times with one hand tied behind our back and blindfolded. A sense that we’re forgetting something or not focusing enough on another thing is probably useful to us. To-do lists — extensive and rolling in nature — certainly help me tend to what needs doing while calming some of these feelings.
Fear of the unknown classroom
I remember a subject a took in my undergraduate years that was outside my usual faculty. I took it in my efforts to cobble together a third major. Everything about it was intimidating: the lecturer may as well have been speaking a foreign language. The students were from a completely different world. They were friendly enough — some even invited me to join group discussions — but they, too, seemed to speak a foreign language. The essay questions were indecipherable. I didn’t attend numerous classes because I found them overwhelming.
Being my conscientious self, though, I completed all the assignments. I was terrified of failing — but I scraped through. It was the worst mark I ever got, but it wasn’t even as bad as I feared it would be. Some of the feelings from taking that class feature in that recurring dream, no doubt. But I sometimes walk past that classroom now (I work at the same university 20 years later) and feel proud that I got through it.
I have this recurring dream less frequently these days. But it sometimes turns up in the night. If it’s one familiar to you, let me know how it plays out and what you think it means in the context of your life.