“No, but…there is the dream of someone else.” –Kathleen Kelly, You’ve Got Mail
“For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let him swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.”–Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
Somebody told me recently that they didn’t attach too much importance to dreams. As in, sleeping, REM dreams. I felt foolish, at first, admitting that yes, I do believe dreams serve a purpose. I still believe that. The dreams that have proved problematic, or heart-breaking, even, are the ones that I dream while I’m awake. There, they end up just screwing with your head–like mistakenly believing in the appearance of real-life love, or false concepts of one’s one worth, for example, or other bitter, cynical conclusions I’ve begun to accept/adopt. Those are the real illusions that the human mind creates for itself, not dreams. For in dreams, you know you are dreaming, you already know that you are moving and living in an impossible realm, so there is no disappointment. Even nightmares hold a certain dramatic fascination.
They take my mind on wonderful journeys to otherworldly realms–allowing me to escape this prosaic, drab reality when it becomes too wearing.
My dreams are so fantastical and vivid that I often channel them into writing–they’ve inspired stories, and poetry, and make me wish I was a visual artist so I could capture the landscapes and images.
They often provide clarity to an issue I’m struggling with, or sometimes even provide messages/insight that my conscious thinking mind blocks.
Sometimes even the simple wish-fulfillment dreams are a comfort…a place where I could be respected, valued, even loved (I’m pretty damn unlikable, apparently.).
At the risk of sounding out-there, new-agey, I’ve even had a couple of precognitive dreams. I’ve dreamed of people I haven’t met yet, or situations I had yet to go through–sometimes even getting a warning about dangerous situations. I’m pretty sure there’s a scientific explanation out there for those type of dreams, like you are subconsciously picking up on clues that, when your filtering brain is turned off, come to the fore.
But who knows…
I just know that I love dreaming, I dream in colour, and I remember my dreams every night…and they provide an outlet for my vivid, highly visual imagination that reality fails to encourage…
Do you dream?