Every night Jacob says, "Sweet dreams," and whoever is kissing him goodnight says, "Sweet dreams" back. It's so much nicer than "Sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite." Last night I had two sweet dreams.
In the first I invented a country (must get out a map and look). I think it was at the northern tip of the African continent, a colony of mostly French--and here's where I violate geography I'm sure--it was just across a channel from southern France. I was preparing to fly home and dreading the long flight (in an earlier part of the dream I was packing and my suitcase kept falling apart--I woke up anxious). Someone said, "Let's take the ferry to France for the day," and I was so excited, so joyous that I was going to France for a day. Where does this come from? My brother and sister-in-law are due back today from southern France; the long flight may be a hangover from my trip to Scotland. All I can figure, but I still had that wonderful feeling of joy when I woke up.
Fed the cat and snuck back to bed for just a bit--which turned out to be an hour and a half. It was a pleasant day, not hot like now, and I was in my kitchen, though I didn't recognize the room at all. Doors at either end were open, and old friends, men and women, kept drifting in and sitting at the long table where I was opening mail and semi-working. Now I can't tell you who they were--except for Bill and Sharon Benge and Sally Armstrong--but we were all interconnected through marriage, divorce, and friendship. And they all shared in some form of creative work. It was a lovely warm feeling to be so surrounded by comfortable friends with much in common, and I remember thinking I must blog about how nice this is. Of course then I woke up--and no, two new book projects hadn't landed on my desk. That too was a dream!
You can't help but wonder where dreams come from. I think they're subconscious manifestations of things that are on your mind, sometimes consciously, sometimes not. I dream about my parents often, and sometimes wake sure that my mother is in the next room (where her bedroom would be if I were in my childhood bedroom). Who knows? Maybe she's here in spirit. Some people who've played major roles in my life appear frequently, and others never appear--as though I have settled my business with them. I don't know what it all means, and I'm not sure dreams are guides for what we should do in daily life. Yet I do pay attention and wonder if there's some sort of message there.
In the first I invented a country (must get out a map and look). I think it was at the northern tip of the African continent, a colony of mostly French--and here's where I violate geography I'm sure--it was just across a channel from southern France. I was preparing to fly home and dreading the long flight (in an earlier part of the dream I was packing and my suitcase kept falling apart--I woke up anxious). Someone said, "Let's take the ferry to France for the day," and I was so excited, so joyous that I was going to France for a day. Where does this come from? My brother and sister-in-law are due back today from southern France; the long flight may be a hangover from my trip to Scotland. All I can figure, but I still had that wonderful feeling of joy when I woke up.
Fed the cat and snuck back to bed for just a bit--which turned out to be an hour and a half. It was a pleasant day, not hot like now, and I was in my kitchen, though I didn't recognize the room at all. Doors at either end were open, and old friends, men and women, kept drifting in and sitting at the long table where I was opening mail and semi-working. Now I can't tell you who they were--except for Bill and Sharon Benge and Sally Armstrong--but we were all interconnected through marriage, divorce, and friendship. And they all shared in some form of creative work. It was a lovely warm feeling to be so surrounded by comfortable friends with much in common, and I remember thinking I must blog about how nice this is. Of course then I woke up--and no, two new book projects hadn't landed on my desk. That too was a dream!
You can't help but wonder where dreams come from. I think they're subconscious manifestations of things that are on your mind, sometimes consciously, sometimes not. I dream about my parents often, and sometimes wake sure that my mother is in the next room (where her bedroom would be if I were in my childhood bedroom). Who knows? Maybe she's here in spirit. Some people who've played major roles in my life appear frequently, and others never appear--as though I have settled my business with them. I don't know what it all means, and I'm not sure dreams are guides for what we should do in daily life. Yet I do pay attention and wonder if there's some sort of message there.
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