On Dreams

I have always had strange dreams.
I have never had dreams about lying on the beach in Hawaii, a cold cocktail clutched in my hand. I also rarely have nightmares that are in the classic horror movie style.

I often wondered how other people’s subconscious was so uncluttered that they had such simple and lovely dreams. Dreams they regret waking from. As many of us know now, dreams are the result of our subconscious letting loose and working through the various things that have happened to us during our life. That is why it is not uncommon for characters from your favorite television show or book to make an appearance in your personal nocturnal movie.

My dreams are most often a crazy mish mash that is neither scary nor pleasant. I will dream of someone I have not even thought of in ages and we will interact in some way that we never interacted in real life. I usually wake up confused how my brain even dredged up that person I had not thought consciously in over 10 years.

It makes me realize that information I thought was gone is not lost forever. I used some knowledge I had went into a mental trashcan I could no longer access. Instead my dreams show me there is information lurking deep in my archives and it just takes a little longer to find it.

I often try to determine where the elements of my dreams come from. Especially the more elaborate dreams which seem to have a Hollywood style budget. If I consider it long enough, I will see part of the article I read last week, a conversation I had a month ago and friends from elementary school all somehow got lumped into my night’s fantasy.

And yet those they aren’t really my fantasies, they are often ridiculous or mundane but in a way that is strange. Like the dream I had last night, I was back in high school and was asked to show my student ID. I fished around in one pocket and pulled out my student ID from law school, which obviously wasn’t right because I was still in high school. Then I fished around in my other pocket and pulled out my high school student ID but it turned out I had someone else’s ID and had never noticed. The time and space made no sense and yet in my dream, I moved through the situation as if it was totally reasonable.

I wish someone day my dreams could be simple and relaxing like sitting in a café in Paris sipping a latte. But I guess with so many things in my head, my subconscious doesn’t have time for such pursuits.

To sleep, perchance to dream, indeed!

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