“So what do we think it is that dreams actually do?” This is the reason that after thirteen years of being together, Remi and I never run out of conversation. We can and do talk about anything. This morning, as I was hovering over a cup of Lady Grey that just wasn’t cutting it, dreams were on the menu. For if I was run ragged it was because my night had been especially long with a non-stop film of them looping through my head. And they are indeed like movies, my dreams. They are utterly realistic and hold such nuances in color, sound and details that I don’t ever pop out of them save on the very rare occasion when I stop to think, “Wow, good job brain.” When I do wake in the middle of the night – and I often do – at times I have to pull myself out of the grip of those images by telling myself where I actually am, my current age, that Remi is sleeping next to me, that everything is ok. In the mornings, I count on the sun to burn off their last dregs as it does the dew. If I have had cauchemars or nightmares, that process can dawdle into the afternoon.
And yet my dreams are rarely fantastical, nor – save for a period a few years back when my teeth kept falling out in them – are they particularly symbol laden. Remi is hardly ever present, something I account to our spending an inordinate amount of time together during our waking hours. But they do tend to go in cycles where I am in participating in the same event or environment (and sometimes a lot of ground can be covered within one neighborhood) for several weeks straight. Lately, it has been within the offices of the luxury hotels that I worked at between acting jobs in Manhattan, previously it was on the grounds of my alma mater, the Yale School of Drama. All of the characters involved, including myself, are busy and the interactions complex. I wonder what these people, all of whom I haven’t been in contact with in twenty years or more, would think if they knew that they were popping into my head on a nearly nightly basis, these strangers that aren’t so strange. At times my Dad, who passed away five years ago, is present but rarely in a way that seems to have a specific meaning or connection. The only thing that can be exaggerated is my emotional life. Recently, anger has been coming into play, an element that I am aware deserves both recognition and attention (thank you, Mr. Jung).
Remi, it turns out, is not only a lucid dreamer but is able to shape the form of his dreams. Leonard, my Mom’s Husband, has such extraordinary adventures as to make us gasp with surprised laughter when he retells them. I know that we all are different and I don’t wish to be obsessed by dreams despite their hold on me. There is character in the evocative Wim Wender’s film “Until the End of the World” who, thanks to science, is able to see video taped versions of the nights previous events and is nearly driven mad by it. But I am fascinated by them and have a grateful respect for their purpose, even if I can’t begin to answer my own question as to what that might be.
I stumbled upon this interesting article from Scientific American : here.
From the “Until the End of the World” soundtrack, Jane Siberry and K.D. Lang’s utterly magnificent “Calling all Angels”:
And what about your dreams? I rarely turn the tables but so many of you have been extremely generous in your comments lately that I am curious…
I had far more, in number, drama, and effect, dreams as a child than I do now or as a younger adult. Does that mean I'm living my dream?
My retirement time at home discovery: my sweet old cat has the occasional nightmare, waking up w a start, often w teeth bared and hissing….. !!! What is going on in his mind?
Interesting!! I love this topic. I dream vividly and love trying to recall them throughout the day.
When my mother died, I had extremely detailed conversations with her in my dreams, which I found so comforting. As if she was visiting me to help me along with the transition. My favorite quote from these dreams is "Oh honey, I'm not dead! I'm right here!"
Oh. Dreams. Fascinating! (And cool. I am a lucid dreamer too!)
Such a perfect quote Donna! Either taken literally or just in terms of perspective… 🙂
Such amazing questions. I especially love "where do these images go?" Something that I have never considered before…
As for anyone who has the good fortune to read you or even better, to consider himself/herself a friend…well, I was very moved by what you wrote about your Mom.
And yes, those mystery people that we don't know but are there nonetheless…who are they? People that we are supposed to meet? Ah, you can see that it is nearing Halloween and the mystic in me is rising to the surface…
Gros Bisous,
H
Yes, all of this ticked true for my experience too, Vicki Lee! Especially just to have a night of truly peaceful sleep. Although sometimes my brain gives me a treat in dream form…this will sound silly but it goes back to one of my initial pasttimes – vintage clothing shopping! And of course I find something amazing at a great price and just the cut of all of the clothes and feeling the fabrics…those would be one of those "good job brain" nights. I warned you it was silly. But most of the time it can be and is profound as you say…certainly there are dreams that have more power over me than real life.
Wasn't it Poe that said, "all that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream".
Very interesting, Heather. (And I love the photo of the spider web that you chose to illustrate what your brain weaves at night). Isn't it fascinating that we all dream so differently? Mine seem perfectly coherent when they are spinning in my head, but once I become part of the waking world rarely make enough literal sense for me to describe them beyond sometimes a place, a few main characters (they are often populated by people I've never met) and a couple basic plot points. Right now, I am just waking and finishing my first cup of coffee, and last night's dream (which continued in a part 2 after I reclaimed sleep after a middle of the night wake up – this often happens) was strange as most, the only thing that stands out is that the main character was my mother (although a much, much younger version of her) and in the dream I was very angry with her. Hmmm I don't think that takes much analysis to figure out. Where do these images go? How do they influence our daily lives? These I are questions I often ask…
Admittedly I prefer my waking life most days to that of my dreams.
XOXO
I am like you … I dream on a grand scale – and wonder if that is why I am so tired during the day, being cast in such intense storylines.
In fact often I feel the dreams are more profound than real life at times. Just the other day heard the lines of that nursery rhyme "Life is but a dream … " and I wonder.
Sometimes I would just love to sleep …. and switch the mind completely off.