THE DOLL

I dreamt I made this curious invention--which someone surely has already made, though I've never heard of it--to act as an aid in disputes between loving partners. It was a live-sized doll, not the sexy kind but featureless, constructed out of plain stitched canvas (for good measure, in those still-dreaming moments on awakening, I added for the sake of flexibility a detachable cock and balls: the miracle of velcro!) At moments of potential conflict the doll could be trotted out and all the words of anger, fear and sadness--perhaps, too, all the unexpressed frustrations and desires--could be poured out to the doll, rather than the partner. The partner's role would be to act simply as silent listener, or witness to the aggrieved one's distress. The exchange would not have that intensely personal, accusatory quality that can be so damaging and hurtful. Instead, the words could be spoken, as they must and should be, without being addressed to a "you" but rather to an invulnerable third party who could absorb them with impunity. The "you", thus spared, could avoid the kind of reaction that inflicts further pain and instead simply stand back and learn. The doll, in my dream, was accompanied by a book entitled, curiously, "The Art of Simplicity and Love." Odd, then, what the unconscious mind comes up with. Maybe I should patent my invention. It could be a best-seller, particularly at this moment when relationships are under the stress of isolation.