As far back as I can remember I’ve been a big dreamer. I’ve had the Scare-The-Pajeebers-Out-Of-You kind and the, Please-Let-Me-Go-Back-To-Sleep kind, and everything in between.
Yep, lots of R.E.M. sleep for me. In my defense, I hear people that dream a lot are very creative. Or blonde. Okay, I made that up. But, it sounds appropriate.
I remember in high school, I was the case study for my Psychology class as each day I’d regale them with the details of the life that I lived while I slept. Fascinating stuff, I’m sure.
But I’ve always wondered where do dreams really come from? And what are they? Are they an alternate reality? Just a jumbled composite of our mind’s thoughts? Or the result of pizza with anchovies before bed? Maybe voices in our head?
The other night I dreamt that I was going on a trip with friends. As it turns out, it was a lot of friends. And we were going by car. Make that a truck with a Snug Top lid.
The smart people (I was not one of them) grabbed a seat in the cab. The rest of us had to ride in the bed of the truck. There were probably ten of us back there. I was feeling a little squished, trying not to bonk my noggin on the lid, but I had a good friend with me, so I figured I’d be okay.
I was wrong.
The dirt road began to kick up a lot of dust and we felt every rock and pothole as our bodies flew up and landed back down on our spine. My eyes began to burn and I was having a little trouble breathing.
Then the lid began to close and lock hydraulically. Sealing us in to our dark tomb.
I promptly began to freak out!
It was at that point, I decided I was done with that dream and woke myself up. With my heart racing, and sweating profusely, I threw the covers off of me. Once I was sure I wasn’t locked inside the back of a truck, I relaxed a little.
So, since I didn’t have anchovies before bed, where did that one come from? And what exactly did it mean? Here’s my best guesses:
- I’m feeling just a little too close to my friends. (Best to avoid group travel right now.)
- I’m a little pent up about issues. (Given the right circumstances, I may spontaneously self combust.)
- I’m not the sharpest crayon in the box. (The smart ones got in the other box. With windows. And air. )
- All of the above.
Votes, anyone? Since I’m writing a book about dreams, I’m interested in all possibilities. Fire away.
However, just in case #3 is correct, use small words.