Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Dream A Little Dream

Dreams, the sleepy nighttime ones, are funny things aren’t they?  I know people who don’t dream or at least don’t remember dreaming. I have a friend who only really dreams when she is on medication. I, on the other hand, have always lived in a world of dreams. Sometimes I only remember my dreams for a split second after waking up, like my subconscious is all, “Oh, she’s waking up! Quick, shut this party down,” and I can only glimpse the last few stragglers as they slip into morning light.  But other times dreams stay with me well after my eyes open and my feet hit the ground for the day.  I still remember dreams, both of the beautiful and frightful kind, that I had as a child many moons ago. Some of these remembrances are still so vivid that, honestly, there are a few hazy memories that I still don’t know with 100% assurance if they happened in waking hours or in slumber.  At times I try to tame my dreams and tell them what worlds I wish like to visit that night,  like dreaming is one of those tattered choose your own adventure books, or a menu of streaming videos to pick and choose from. But much like it sisters fate and destiny, dreams most often are wild, bow to few masters and stubbornly do whatever they well please.  But I find it so deeply interesting that we keep telling ourselves stories, even when are sleeping, as if our existence maniacally depends on that the stories keep going.   Part of me wants to know why we dream and what those dreams say about ourselves or their place in our own personal mythologies. They must mean something, there must be a reason, a purpose, a big old WHY, supernaturally, evolutionary, medically,  we dream.  But then there is the part of me that tells that other part to stop asking so many questions and just let the dreams spin their webs. 
 Two Recent Dreams.  
The first one starts out pretty dark, finding my dream self in an awful situation, a scary predicament that I hope that my awake self never find it’s self in. But in this midst of all this, enters in a favorite singer/songwriter and band of mine, who see me in my dire straits and tells me, “We will help you. We will get you at of this.” And they did just that.  Which singer/songwriter and/or band  really isn’t the point, let’s just say the really hero, for me at least, is music, in general, in entirety. It was like a physical manifestation of all those many times that the words and music of others have helped me.  
The second dream finds me throwing a dinner party in my current and still pretty new to me apartment. Filling the chairs around the dinning set that I grew with as a child are friends from many chapters of my life: Missouri friends,  DC friends from my first stint here, and friends that I have only know for a couple months.  I didn’t catch the exact menu, except for a huge pot of mashed potatoes on the stove, but I have been known to dream about potatoes, so that is really nothing new, but there were plates and bowls and pitchers, seemingly overflowing and seemingly everywhere.   A bountiful feast for my tribe. And even though this dream was dreamt several months ago, I still remember waking up with my chest almost bursting with happiness. 
You Are My Constant.
One of my favorite episodes of the television show LOST was an episode in the fourth season called “The Constant.” In this episode, the character Desmond, and his Scottish accent, time traveled—kinda, LOST was a wacky show—back and forth between roughly 1996 and 2004, and it’s confusing and a little terrifying.  But in all this chaos and turmoil there was one constant, present in all the different time jumps, his love interest, Penny,  that served as an anchor to keep him from spirally uncontrollably into this time warp.   I have never time traveled, so I can’t compare it to dreaming, but who is say that dreaming isn’t a sort of travel between selves or different lives that could have been lived , whoa, did that just get weird?  But I love that music and friendships are my constants in both in my wide awake life and my life of repose,  bringing  me heaps and heaps of joy, and keeping me anchored safely from the winds of both worlds.