Dream Baby, Dream...

If you are like me, your eyes glaze over when someone starts telling you about their dreams. For some reason, our dreams are usually brain-numbing to other people, except those folks who are paid to pay attention and care, you know, like professional "head-shrinkers." It's also a bit deflating when you watch a movie, or read a story, and you find out at the end that "It was a all just a dream." Somehow that always comes across as lazy story-telling. Kind of a cheat.

Dreams are just so damn personal. 

My dreams are often quite jumbled & surreal. Written, Directed and Filmed by an incompetent, or wildly drugged-out avant-garde sensibility. Last night I was a passenger on the Titanic. That ill-fated, ice-berg-crashed ship. I was tossed and turned along with everyone else on-board, a little rag doll in the grips of a major catastrophe. I was sure I was doomed, that feeling of doom and total disintegration swamped me; my body was pummeled by an unrelenting & overwhelming force. I am pretty sure I know why I was having this dream, (see the last few previous posts), I really did experience this kind of thing in "real life," a lightening-quick episode of mayhem and doom and disintegration, but I survived it all in reality and in my dream-world too. In the dream, I floated up above the scene of destruction. I emerged into a blazing, golden light, unscathed, un-maimed. This morning that feeling of wholeness and good feeling, of surviving the worst of the worst of things, surges thru me. Escaping the maiming, that's a good one. Your eyes are probably glazing over right now, Jeezus, it was just a dream! Yep. But so, so true and meaningful, at least to me.