I love dreaming. Not daydreams, but the ones that come at night, deep in sleep. I can’t always remember my dreams, but they’re vivid and striking and exciting to me – often complete contrasts to my quite regular life.
This is true even though occasionally my dreams scare me, sometimes in repetitive I-know-just-what-gets-her ways. For instance, I have recurring dreams of going to university and getting my degree twice, realizing only in my second fourth year that I already got this degree and I have wasted a full four years of my life. Or I’ll arrive at my finals completely unprepared, or I’ll forget the days of the exams, or not realize that I should have taken a course that I can’t graduate without.
Stress, people. Can I tell you that I’ve actually gotten to a place with these dreams that I can recognize them – sometimes I’m able to tell myself in the dream that it’s just a dream, you’ve been in this dream before. Or don’t worry about failing all those sets of university exams because you’re already a lawyer. I am? I am! What a relief, you know?
googled studied precisely nothing about this and don’t want to know more about the doings of my brain. I don’t want any dream analysis; you may know more about my dreams’ significance than I do, and that’s just fine by me. In my little sleepyhead, dreams are mysterious and magical (if a little menacing), and I’d like to keep it that way.
The truth is, no matter how good (or bad) a day I’ve had, I almost invariably anticipate with pleasure the time when I lie down, those moments before sleep when, for better or for worse, you have lived the day, and the matter is closed. Part of the reward is then rest and sleep. But I also wonder: what adventure waits tonight?
And I don’t think it’s just me. One of the prizes of sleeping with the kids is being awoken by them laughing really, really hard while completely asleep. I wonder what they’re dreaming about, of course, but mostly it doesn’t matter; I just laugh along like a crazy conscious person. Laughter then becomes the lullaby for re-entering my own dream world, and all is well at night.
The dreams I remember tend to be filled with death, destruction and terror of late… And I wake completely spent. I know what you mean though – usually, I love my dreams and I’ve also reached that point many times when I realise it is simply that.