Bed of Dreams, Kathy Ostman-Magnussen
I don't, really.
I think they're a bunch of random images from our subconcious blended together in our imagination to form who knows what. I often remember dreams, at least for a little while. I suppose that makes me a light sleeper, since you have to wake up during the dream to remember it? Normally my dreams make little sense, but are pleasant and interesting. I have dreams that take place in recurring situations. If I dream about my home, it's always the home I lived in from 2nd- 7th grade, but with some weird twist - usually the bathroom is not the bathroom but some other room. If I dream about school, it's never the school I work at now, but a composite of the different places I've attended and worked over the years. Most of the time I wake up and think, "that was nice," or sometimes, try to go back to sleep and pick up where I left off. You know, to get back that warm, fuzzy feeling of happiness.
I don't have bad dreams very often, although when I do, I usually try to "re-invent" the ending of the dream - you know, close my eyes, half sleep, and will the dream to change. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. The worst dream of my life was a few years ago, and it was so vivid and so awful that I don't even care to tell you about it.
The last week or so, though, I've been having some weird dreams, and not ones I love. The first one involved me ticking off some guys who then starting beating the crap out of my dog. I woke up seriously upset by that one and had to cuddle Ginny for a while to settle down. The next night I dreamt of snakes - and I hate hate hate, double hate, loathe entirely snakes. And in this dream, Ginny and a little tiger I had for some reason were tearing about the snakes. This morning I woke up after having a weird dream where good friends of ours (not people I actually know in real life, but friends in dreamland) went through a big trauma I don't feel like typing, either.
My mom says maybe I need to pray.
It reminds me of a summer morning several years ago when I was working at an English camp in Spain. There were five of us 20-something girls all working there who had become quite close. One morning I woke up after having a dream I can't remember anymore, but with a distinct heavy feeling that I couldn't shake. I got up early and sat on the couch reading the Bible and praying and, as I did so, a clear sense of peace began to wash over me. Later that morning when I got to camp, the girls and I were talking. Four of us had all experienced the same thing - a foreboding feeling that was almost tangible - and we had all immediately dropped to our figurative knees to spend time with the One. And we all were calmed.
Now, I don't know what that was about, but I do remember it was powerful.
And so, while I don't really believe in the significance of dreams meaning anything, I do suspect perhaps I should get back on my knees again.
Hopefully, tomorrow, I'll wake up wanting to go back to sleep to continue the warm, fuzzy feeling, instead of anything else.