Today is the fourth day of the A to Z Challenge and the letter D is up at the oche. I had a lot of different options running through my mind for today’s post. Darkness and death, deserts and deeply dismal days in the middle of spring. I also dabbled with the decision of drafting a post about Damon, my third son, whose middle name happens to be Dexter.
While I would love to write a post about my son, and his antics will certainly entertain, I don’t think it really fits the blog.
So instead I want to talk about dreams. It may sound strange, but more often than not I don’t have any dreams that I can remember upon waking. I don’t get the whole sleep cycle thing, but I guess it is because I don’t sleep very long. However, when I do dream, at night, they are always very strange experiences. Mashups of many different things. They are often dark, but never nightmares. They seem to reflect the general tumultuous flow of thoughts that hover around my brain every day.
I tend to do most of my dreaming during the day. Daydreams and day dreaming form a large part of my life. I seem to have even evolved a way of daydreaming subconsciously. As strange as that may sound, I can be working, and daydream at the same time.
Regardless of the frequency of my own nocturnal movies, I have always been fascinated by dreams. Not just in a Nightmare on Elm Street way, but from a pure psychological standpoint. The working of the human mind is intriguing on so many levels.
It is very regular occurrence in this household that at least one of the kids talks in their sleep. James and Ashleigh, my daughter in particular are very talkative while under the influence of slumber. It is fascinating to hear them talk. They have real conversations, one sided ones at least. You can follow them, and most of the time, you can fill in the blanks from the other side of their conversation.
They say that children are innocent, and that it is their continued exposure to real life that taints their souls. Listening to the sounds of my children’s dreams, I would have to agree.
It was Stephen King’s Hearts in Atlantis that talked about the young boy, Bobby Garfield who would sleep the sleep of innocents, his legs and arms spread to the four corners of the bed. Open and exposed; fearless because the real horrors that we know as adults, had yet to be instilled in him. By the end, Bobby’s innocence was ripped away from him. I often think of that passage, as I ponder childhood, dreams and out eventual destination. I think of how our dreams change.
Not only the ones that visit us at night, but those dreams that we hold dear to. Those dreams we have of where we want to go, who we want to be. As we grow, our dreams can easily become tainted. Tarnished by the world around us. We let others influence us, and this influence our dreams; stifling them, suffocating them until all we dream of being to move from one day to the next and enjoy the weekend and the meager level of freedom it grants.
That is no way to live. Keep your dreams alive. Keep dreaming and don’t let anybody tell you that you can’t be who you want to be, or what you want to be, because nobody other than you has the right to say it.
Thanks for reading, and keep on dreaming!