Friday, February 25, 2011

Dream Weaver

The past few mornings I’ve awoken with the remnants of my dreams still fresh in my sleepy mind. I’ve been having some doozy dreams, too; they are vivid and really “out there.”               
      

One was inspired I’m sure, by my DVRing of the Johnny Depp, Helen Bonham Carter film, Alice in Wonderland. Another, by glimpsing a cover story of England’s Prince William and his bride-to-be; the dream had me surrounded by English people. Well, that dream could also be sparked by my college lectures; I’m teaching students about the American Revolution. Whatever the case, I’m logging some really interesting dreamtime and enjoying every slumbering minute.

As is the case with most dreams, I work out lots of everyday issues and psychological distress while I’m asleep. For a really long time I dreamt about my grandmother’s house. I was lost inside and couldn’t find my way out; I went from room to room looking for something. I used to have flying dreams but they stopped long ago and I miss them. The dreams I have when I’m under a lot of stress are not in the least bit helpful; in fact, they cause me to wake up more stressed than ever. These dreams have me remembering that I have animals in cages in my yard that I have forgotten to feed and clean. Hundreds of animals await my attention and the guilt I feel at neglecting them has me tossing a turning as I attempt to check on their welfare.


I keep a notebook close at hand to write the details of dreams I remember, especially those I believe have a message for me. Just like my decades-old journal, I can reread my notes about dreams I had years ago and am able to recall them as if they were dreamt the night before.

I wonder what purpose my documentation of my life and dreams serve? Perhaps when I’m an old lady I’ll find comfort in the memories I’ve chronicled, both conscious and unconscious. I doubt anyone but me will care about them; I don’t expect them to be enshrined in any museum when I’m long gone.

No, my dreams and thoughts serve only me, allowing me the opportunity to enter a time machine of my own making and relive moments that are I would otherwise have long forgotten.  I'll keep writing them as long as they keep visiting me, and maybe someday their messages will be easy to interpret.  In the meantime, I'm enjoying the escape.  Dream on. 


1 comment:

AmyK said...

Your Dream Journal is a great idea. I have a couple of recurring dreams, one not good and the other very pleasant. I, too, wander through an old house, into rooms I had never seen before. One night I found my long gone Grandmother and Mother with my very much alive daughters, all trying on turn of the century hats from piles of hat boxes. I could have stayed there much longer.

We used to go to Vegas lots but it is so much more crowded now. You are a brave woman.

I'm so glad I found you again. I used to blog under another title and enjoyed you then.