Stuck in a Tall Tree, with Freud and Young

The following is part of my shorts series. Story vignettes, written quickly in a stream from my subconscious. Often dreamlike and nonsensical. Enjoy.

I’m in the top of a tree again. How does this keep happening? I climbed up here in a dream and then I awoke and I was actually in the tree. Sleep climbing? It’s quite tall I must say, a sequoia no doubt. I’m clinging to the thin top branches which are feeling pretty unstable at the moment, bending around with the confident breeze. I look down and I can’t believe I was able to get up here. I guess anything is possible in a dream. I consider that maybe the best way to get down is falling back to sleep, so I try that…

Nope. I try to get comfortable but I’m too scared to get comfortable and it’s cold as hell up here. Furthermore, the moment I close my eyes a large raven lands in the branches with me, looks right at me and starts screaming at me the way ravens do. HEY HEY HEY! He seems to say. WHAT?! I shout back at him. I’m in your tree, yes I know, do you think I like being here? It’s so easy for you, with your wings but I can’t just fly down, man. I’m stuck up here!

The raven stares me down. In his dark eyes I see a warning. Why are you here? You don’t belong here. He caw caw caws again and I hear replies from his pals in the nearby trees. It would appear that I am surrounded.

I look around to try and better understand where I am. I’m in a forest that stretches as far as I can see in all directions. There is no sign of civilization anywhere. It’s early morning and the sun has just risen and the sky is a beautiful canvas awash with soft pastel color and gentle light. Mist hangs around the tops of the trees like cobwebs. In the distance I see Eagle soaring. What a nice dream I must have been having. Or I’m still having.

I turn my attention back to Raven. “Tell me everything you know.” I demand. “I want to know what is going on here, how do I get out of my dream?”

Raven shifts its large body and bobs its head a little, gives a slight body twitch, shaking his head and then looks at me and says:

“Heres the thing, Moksha. You are making this world up with your imagination. It’s happening now in real time. You are at your desk right now, you’ve just finished your coffee and eggs and you are writing this all from your subconscious, you’re making it up as you go. If you want to get down you only need to think of a clever solution that will sound good, something entertaining, and then write it out. It’s as simple as that. The sky’s the limit. You could fly like me if you really want to, you could teleport, you could become a squirrel and climb down. Heck you could fall out of the tree for that matter, that would make a good story. The reason you are stuck is because you don’t want to write that you simply climbed down, because that would be boring and no one likes a boring story. Do you understand?”

I was dumbstruck. “Your English is really good for a Raven” I hear myself say. That’s a weird thing to say because ravens don’t speak English at all. “Wait, so you’re just the voice of my subconscious, talking back at me as a bird? None of this is really here at all. I’m not even in a tree. I’m in a cafe in New York, the year is 1969 and Miles Davis is playing at the Filmore tonight. I have a smashingly hot date, and also I’m rich and I’m not allergic to peanut butter anymore.”

Raven laughed his ass feathers off at that one. “If you wish, yes but what you dream stays in the dream world. You can’t alter the material world on your own. You can’t time travel. You’re lucid now. You’re aware of your situation and so you have some control over the dream, yes but what are you going to do with that power?”

“Umm, any suggestions?” I ask. “If you’re the voice of my subconscious, maybe you can enlighten me.”

“You don’t remember how you got here. How did you get here? You should wonder if this is a symbolic situation? Ask Freud: what does it mean to be stuck at the top of a tall tree?”

I looked over to the tree closest to me and there was Freud, with his arms and legs wrapped tightly around the topmost branches. He was not particularly happy. “God damnit, Moksha! Put me down!”

“Yes sir!” I called out to him “but first can you tell me, what does it mean to dream you are stuck in the top of a giant tree?”

“It means you’re an idiot” Freud screamed back at me. “How should I know! You’d have to tell me all about your mother first!”

Hummm, okay he’s not happy. I bet Young would have a better answer. I closed my eyes and conjured Carl Young in another tree top. “Ahoy mate” I called out to him, “can you tell me, why am I here?”

“It’s because he’s an asshole!” Freud shouted to Young from his tree.

Raven laughed again, greatly amused by the whole situation.

“I think you came up here looking for freedom” Young called out, “you are seeking release from the confines of the normal day to day. But you’re also a dreamer, you need to get grounded. You can’t live in a tree top, my friend!”

I looked at Raven, Raven looked at me. I looked at Freud, and he flipped me off. I looked at Young and he was winding his watch, holding on to the tree with only his legs. In the distance I heard Eagle call out.

Looking down I contemplated the unpleasantness of climbing back down through the thick upper branches. It might be more fun to jump. If I only had a hang glider, Now, where on earth am I going to get a hang-glider…

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Thanks for reading this short piece. Please leave a comment below or take a moment to browse my art. My primary outlet is painting and drawing and I have much to see…