Dreams and My Subconscious

This past sleep, Gentle Readers (and yes, I know it's almost 2:30am, I am planning on going to bed soon!) I had a very interesting dream.

Apparently my subconscious has decided that for now, anyway, Success is going to show up in my dreams disguised as Alan Doyle from Great Big Sea. Makes sense, I guess, given his story, but I just thought that was a little odd. Out of everything I've experienced in my own life, wouldn't my own subconscious choose something from ME as a symbol of Success? What's with this folk singer instead?

And in this dream that I just had I, for the first time EVER, as long as I can remember, was in a wheelchair in the beginning of it. Research about wheelchairs in dreams suggests that this is a symbol for me feeling helpless in some way, either I feel unable to express some sort of feeling, or I feel as though I'm handicapped in some way. Well. We all know that I am in fact significantly disabled because of my two neurological condititions -- Non-Verbal Learning Disorder and Asperger's, but somehow I don't think my dream was referring to those.

'Cause, you see, as soon as I met Alan in my dream (along an ocean walk that drew from various ocean walks I've encountered in my life, but for some reason also incorporated a tunnel, wierd) he looked at me with an expression of great distaste, looked down at me, and commanded me, in that way he has, to "stop pretending."

I am now left with trying to figure out just what my subconscious thinks I am pretending about, and what I am hiding from success. Because, of course, when I refused (I remember watching myself saying quite piteously, 'but I can't' and Alan getting thoroughly disgusted at my refusal -- I was disgusted with myself too, to be honest, that weepy, 'I can't' handicapped little person didn't jive with how I see myself . . . I often dream in 3rd person, watching myself do whatever it is) Alan turned his back on me, stalking away, and ignoring me until I did indeed get up from the wheelchair, leaving it behind, and ran back along the beach cliffs until I caught up with him.

What am I not successful at that I should be? What is the meaning of my getting up out of the wheelchair? What is holding me back and shouldn't be? I hate to use the word 'should' (I agree with Hugh Jackman's Views on that word) but in this case I think it's the correct word for the circumstances.

I am going to have to think on this for a while, perhaps use prayer and meditation. It seems obvious to me that something in me is crying out to move forward -- but I have no idea what. Hmmm.