I have such intense, vivid dreams that I feel as if I have two lives. One when I’m awake, one when I’m asleep. Notice we rarely, ever have a dream about dreaming. That is, in our dreams we don’t go to bed and fall asleep.
My dreams are brought to me in Technicolor and Cinemascope. Everything is well scripted. There’s a story and a subplot. And unlike some dreams, these dreams have a beginning, middle, and an end. Some, of course, are shorter than others. A 30 minute feature as opposed to a full 90 drama. I don’t laugh in my dreams. I don’t cry either. All those emotions are stacked up inside my physical body in the dream. Other people laugh and cry, but I just watch. I do feel emotion: fear, sadness, excitement, disappointment, and rejection, the whole garden of emotional flowers that pop up and bloom inside of us when we’re awake. I just don’t express those emotions in my dreams.
My dreams are vivid and always colorful. I have no film noir dreams done in shadows of black and white. It’s said that the people who show up in your dreams are people you’ve met at one time or another or have seen in the daylight hours before nightfall. It’s said you can’t create new faces or new people in your dreams out of whole cloth. That is, you can’t invent someone you haven’t met or at least seen in your waking hours.
I tracked down vivid dreaming to see if it meant anything was wrong with my health. Was vivid dreaming a symptom of a serious flaw in my mental and physical being? Bi-polar people have vivid dreams but my vivid dreams don’t seem to have all the negative side effects of bi-polar dreaming. Bi-polar by the way, doesn’t mean you’re obsessed about either the Arctic Circle or the sub zero nether land of the Antarctic. Just thought I’d throw that in case you didn’t know.
Quite frequently my mother will show up in my dreams which is bad news for me because my mother, now deceased, is always scolding me or hashing whatever buzz I’m having during the dream. She’s always angry with me, always has some penalty to impose. I don’t remember her doing it all the time while she was in my life but there is some substance to it. My mother and I were always at crossed swords. My father rarely shows up and neither does my sister. Kids I grew up with show up more often than any other group of humans. Airports are always somewhere in my dreams, if not imaginable then certainly they “feel” nearby. Maybe that’s because I feel the need to “flee” an emotion or situation I’m dreaming about but I don’t analyze my dreams so take that suggestion with a thin Popsicle stick.
Whether it’s Freud, or Jung, or any of these mind munchers who speculate what our dreams are or what they mean, I don’t believe anyone really knows. If they say they do I’m suspicious. Snake oil salesman comes to mind. Although snake oil is good for you, the salesmen aren’t .Besides, most mammals dream and so do birds. Nobody goes around spouting off why birds or other mammals dream so why pretend to know why we dream or what our dreams mean. Last night I drove an Airbus through the streets of a small town in Minnesota, looking for a good place to take off and get the plane airborne. Couldn’t find one, so the dream moved on. I got off the plane and found a bus that went to a well lit, modern airport. Then I woke up and wrote this. I left my bags behind on the carousel but they were heavily packed and besides, I don’t need any of that stuff now that I’m awake.
If indeed I really am awake.