I would appreciate having your analysis of the dream described below. Its broad outlines are still quite vivid in my mind although it happened at least six weeks ago, and I have put nothing down in writing about it until now.
First, here are a few biographical details. I am a retired lawyer in my late seventies, have been blind since my twenties, and I have been married to the same wife for more than forty years. I have never practiced before, or followed the proceedings of, the Supreme Court. In retirement I have tried, without much success, to be a published writer.
In the dream, I am Martin Ginsburg, husband of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. (In fact I know only what the average newspaper reader would know about the Ginsburgs. I had to go to a reference work to learn his first name. I am not even sure if he is a lawyer).
The content of my dream was not conveyed by the usual visual images, but by a written text which seemed to unfold as the dream progressed. I often experience my dreams this way, as do other blind people. But this dream was quite unusual because, in it, I am not myself, but Martin Ginsburg.
As Martin Ginsburg in the dream, I am engaged in the act of writing about my marriage to Justice Ginsburg. In the account, we were both previously married, and I present our marriage in lyrical terms as unusual, wonderful, almost perfect.
I, “Martin,” write glowingly about our many shared intellectual interests, especially the law. In my account, Ruth is on the Supreme Court while I am a judge on a Federal Appeals Court in New York. One of our greatest pleasures is discussing cases that have come before our respective courts. But the dream account makes a great point of saying how these discussions were always postponed until after the cases were decided in order to preserve confidentiality. Once the cases are decided, however, we dissect and discuss them at great length, an exercise we both find especially rewarding because we share the same legal philosophy.
In the unfolding dream, I, Martin, repeatedly admire the quality of my writing, how easily it flows, and how few changes I have to make in the words. Incidentally, the few changes I do make are “seen” as actual deletions or substitutions in the dream text.
--Jim, Age 78, Washington, D.C., USA