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I'm trying out something odd this week. I'm going to share my dreams, and what I think they mean.
| Daily thought-storm for April 6, 2020. |
Hey folks,
Ever since I was a kid, I've kept dream journals. Good for you, you'll say. Dreams are meaningless. I say nay, dreams are not only entertaining films produced by the firing of sleepy neurons. There's more to it than that, but only if you think so.
Can the meaningfulness of dreams be tested using the scientific method? Well, that's a leading question. Of course, they can't...but with a caveat. It's likely that the true question is "Can you claim any objective truth from an individual's interpretation of their dreams?" A better inquiry would be something akin to this 2015 study, which aimed to:
"Interpret the possible connections of positive dream emotions and dream recall to subjective well-being and mental boundaries."
The results of that study leave you wanting more information, but it did reveal something anyone could have guessed: People's subjective well-being is connected to their dreams, but it's a mixed bag of associations. And the study from earlier also states this:
"Frequent dream recall was tied with increased meaning in life, while low dream recall was tied to current lack of positive affect and perceived lack of meaning in life."
Get to the good part, what did you dream about?
"Take these coca leaves,” the smiling old lady said, and I consented.
Shuffle.
I’m in someone’s living room. From the window I see that it’s an apartment building, I’m on one of the top floors and there’s a dense city below. The landlord of my previous house in the United States appears with her husband. “You’re here already,” she says, dumping groceries onto the dining room table. “That young man who makes the delicious pies invited you to a dance party tonight.
Yes, the baker, I remember him. South American fellow. That’s right, I must be near Pisac, but this city is huge. It’s larger than Cusco.
“But I think he’s into you,” she says.
I’m not interested in men, perhaps it’d be rude to accept the invitation. “I’m going to pass on this one,” I say. “He’ll understand. People in this town handle rejection well.”
Those words seemed to swell up inside me. Did something important just happen?
“Let’s go!” her husband shouts, already stepping through the doorway.
“Where are we going?” I say, feeling like a child.
“We’ll take you to a local restaurant, you’re gonna love it.”
For a moment the living room feels static as if there was no mass to anything.
Shuffle.
In the back seat of the car, I’m thinking, “I’m a visitor. But where are we, really?”
“Here we go!” the husband shouts, before swerving the car left, off the main road and into a field and barely missing the fence surrounding it. It’s all gravel, we’re riding along a footpath at nearly the same speed as we were going on the highway. Looking through the window: It’s a graveyard! I brace myself, the husband is laughing, my landlord is completely unfazed. People shout as we speed across the graveyard. He nearly ran over those bystanders, I think. Did we just knock over a tombstone?
“Now that’s a shortcut!” the husband says triumphantly as we reach an exit on the other end of the field. Beyond the fence is the main road, the driver pauses for a moment and I’m the only one to notice the policeman pull up on a motorcycle on the right side of the road. “Cop,” I say awkwardly. The two of them nod as we pull onto the main road. “You’re going to love this restaurant,” my landlady assures me.
Restaurant…so many people are outside, why does that seem wrong? There was a recent event, a big one.
My bedroom comes into view, I sigh. It must be about nine o'clock. I check my hands, no parabolic geometry, still only five fingers. Damn, I didn’t realize I was dreaming. So close, just when we spotted that cop. Better luck next time.
Image created with Artbreeder.
That's quite a cliffhanger. So what's it all mean?
I'll give you my interpretations later, I promise. If you want to take a crack at interpreting it, go for it. I'll write a response to it in the next article.
For now, check me out on Medium, and if you're digging the dream narrative, you may enjoy the more offbeat tales such as this one.