Tag Archives: dreaming

Sh-Boom Sh-Boom

Lucid Dreaming
Lucid Dreaming (Photo credit: tomswift46 ( Hi Res Images for Sale))

Maybe I’m reading too many books, watching too many movies, sleeping too fitfully, reading too many blogs…(no, never that….) but for whatever reason I’ve been dreaming completely bizarre things lately and waking up with most of the details still in my head for longer than can possibly be healthy.  I should be writing them down I suppose and analyzing them to death but then I might have to conclude that I’m insane, and who needs that?  Best to leave it as merely a possibility than to prove it outright.

I wrote something a long time ago about lucid dreaming, but I can’t find it so I don’t know if I’m repeating myself or not.  Lucid dreams are pretty normal for me.  I know I’m dreaming and I can either just watch what’s happening or I can influence and even control what happens next.  This is why I rarely have nightmares – if things start going wrong I take them in a different direction, or I wake myself up.  Then sometimes I go back to sleep and start the dream over to make it better.  Mostly I just let dreams happen to see where they want to go.  But I almost always know it’s only a dream.

The good new is, I don’t have hallucinations when I’m awake, and I’ve never had an out-of-body experience involving astral projection.  Although if I wanted to I could probably make myself dream such a thing.  I’m too scared to attempt it.

Instead I have vivid dreams about people who have split up getting happily back together.  People who have serious problems suddenly just not having them anymore.  People who have had strokes and are in wheelchairs getting up and walking away simply to take a break from all that sitting down.  People who have died deciding they’d like to come back to chat with me for awhile, so they do.

And it’s not really wishful thinking, because even in the dream I know it’s simply a what if scenario and will all revert back to the way it was or really is, sometimes even before I wake up.  So why bother?

Well I think it’s some kind of test. Somebody out there is trying to tell me that life could be a dream sweetheart,  sh-boom sh-boom.   Or something to that effect.  We all have the power within us to change what happens next.  So why are we all just sitting around waiting to see what happens?  And getting all anal about it when we don’t like it?  Like it and accept it, or make it better.  Those are your choices. If you really are certifiably insane, embrace your inner crazy.  Life goes on.  Make it whatever you want.

Have a lucidly awesome Saturday everybody.

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Wordy Wednesday

For anyone who cares, and also anyone who doesn’t with no idea what I’m talking about, I’m up to page 199 in my daunting 1000 plus page brick of a book.  I wish I could say I can’t put it down, but it’s all too easy to do that with a little help from gravity and hands that have fallen asleep. 

Last night the sky went ominously dark and the temperature dropped and the thunder rolled and the rain came down.  And that’s the end of that story, because in spite of how threatening the weather appeared to be, it seemed to suddenly lose interest in being nasty and wandered off somewhere else.  I might have stayed awake longer if it had been more entertaining.  Instead I slept for ten hours straight.  There’s something about the rain that induces this kind of tranquility and calm.

A Wednesday!
A Wednesday! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This morning I woke up in the middle of some inscrutably foggy dream feeling lazy, lethargic, just this side of comatose.  Brought the paper in, didn’t feel like looking beyond the front page, made coffee, tuned in listlessly to Facebook.  Damned exciting day so far.   Checked out my astrological forecasts – note the plural there, because I’d hate to put all my trust in just one opinion.  And this way I get to choose the one I like the best.  Or in this case, dislike the most.

Your confidence gets a very nice boost right now, and this enables you to feel like you can do just about anything — which you can. Enjoy your extra social zip and go out and have a great time at whatever you choose to do.

You have a strong and compelling presence today, especially if you are doing any kind of political or public speaking. People are interested in learning what you have to say. But in personal relationships, your passions come across a little too strongly.

You will have a powerful idea that dramatically improves your social and career prospects. You will find a way to bring two groups together in a way that heals an old rift and makes new progress possible. Other people will notice, and you will benefit from the attention.

Who the hell are they talking about?  Obviously the storm went high and rearranged the heavens last night.  I’d go so far as to say it scrambled them.  That is not me.  Social zip, compelling presence, powerful ideas – get out of here.  Even if I finish this whole pot of coffee there’s not a chance.

Right now I’m just trying to drum up the ambition to shower and get dressed and ready for work.  Maybe there will be more lightning today and I’ll get struck by it and thus jump started on the development of my strong and compelling presence where people pay rapt attention to what I have to say.  HAHA!  I must still be dreaming.

My Mother Was A Dreamer (Part One)

Once again, going through old treasures, I have managed to create a brand new “page” in the family history spot on Breathing Space.  Here’s a short cut, which will save me blathering away about where you can find it, if you’re interested at all in obscure Ontario farm history.

History of the Farm

Growing up and being completely self absorbed, I totally missed seeing my mother as the wonderful young and vibrant girl she used to be.  Do any of us take the time to see our mothers in any other role besides that of ‘being MOM’ until after we’ve gone through the entire process ourselves?  Eventually we wonder whatever became of that person we used to be before life changed us into someone else.

My mom worked hard.  She was constantly busy, always doing something or going somewhere, always urging us to do things and go places and get things accomplished.  Sometimes I admired her energy.  Often I resented that she never slowed down long enough to really talk to me.  Although if she had I probably wouldn’t have listened anyway.  I spent a lot of time alone and thinking and writing in journals and dreaming about the future me – as different as night and day from my mother, is what I thought.  Turns out we were more alike than I ever imagined.

Margaret and her friend Blanche in Red Bay, circa 1937

Mom wrote a letter to her future self on her twentieth birthday. I’m so glad I found it.  I think it’s a beautiful thing to have kept all these years, because I’m sure it reminded her of who she was and made her proud of the person she became.

(page one, Febuary 17, 1937, to her future self, to be read on her 25th birthday February 17th, 1942)

To Margaret –

With a smile, I write to you – myself at twenty five.  Remember me kindly, my dream girl in your castles in the air.

It’s noon in Red Bay School.  A beautiful sunny day for my twentieth birthday.  A scattering of snow reminds one that it is winter and nothing more.  Lest you’ve forgotten let me remind you of Findlay, still eating his lunch and chatting with the others, a sandwich in one hand, an apple in the other – Isabella always moving, chattering, teasing, the best often comes in small packages.  Irene, brown eyed, interested, maybe worried but always in on everything.  George, always the same, quiet.  Betty, kind neat and attractive and soon there will be Lillian, helping and ordering.  And later Hazel, certain and dependable and kind.  The piano, The Honour Roll, our car contest, the display at the back.  Do they still bring pleasant memories to you yet?  Do you remember the dark, heavy dress, the red and white three cornered colar?  I’m wearing that.  Mrs. Reed likes it so well and it’s for tonight too.  No one knows it is my birthday.  Remember why?

Did we go to Mac and Maries?  Will we understand eachother?  Have we drifted far apart?  I’m hoping, hoping – you’ve both found happiness!

I’m reading Doctrine and Covenants, Reading friends, true ones I know, sweet happiness and maybe tears too have made me different.  Dear Pal, you haven’t changed, have you?

I dream of you and my dreams come true.  I pray that passing years on you have made a heart that’s truer gold and only noble aims enfolds, a voice that’s gentle and kind to help those whom you meet and understanding mind to meet each varied moment, and hands that strive for other’s joy.

As I look at you I shant look for beauty that is cheaply bought, but may I gaze at inward beauty shining through your eyes, your smiles, and reflected on the faces of those you love.

I hope you’ve chosen worthwhile things in life.  I don’t know what to call you.  I hope you’re still Marnie.

I’d love to ask you many things.  If you could only tell me secrets.  How I’d love to know about so many friends!  Blanche, Lena, Nina, Marie, Ettie, Oley, and oh so many more.

I wonder where you are?  Do you love to go home, the same as ever?  How changed those at home will be too.

Maybe you’d like to know how much I weigh.  I guess you’re keeping yours a secret!!?  Well I’m 137.  My hair with a couple of waves on the top, slightly shingled and just down to the ears.  My white sweater has been worn only twice, you know the Marion and Marnie one.

And now as I close the pages of a teenage reverie and enter into my twenties, I set my goal on you, my dream girl of 25.  You haven’t disappointed me, have you?  Let my theme songs “I will be true”, “I need thee every hour” and “Blest be the tie that binds” be fragrant incense which lifts me always closer to thee.

Goodbye from yourself on your twentieth birthday.

On Dreaming

“But, first a hush of peace – a soundless calm descends;
The struggle of distress, and fierce impatience ends;
Mute music soothes my breast – unuttered harmony,
That I could never dream, till Earth was lost to me.”

(Emily Bronte)

dream – a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep

So says the dictionary, failing to add that the dreaming process and the dream itself have been theorized and analyzed to death by people way smarter than me, so whatever I have to add to it all is purely from my own limited experience on the subject and not to be misconstrued as being momentously meaningful.

Perhaps I will have some kind of visionary dream as to why the dictionary left all that out.

Our little brains are dreaming all the time, even when we’re awake. It’s very hard to turn that off. We daydream and imagine and go into little mini trances to examine all sorts of illusions and delusions all day long. We remember things that happened yesterday and this morning and many years ago. If we didn’t do that, we’d have a heck of a lot less to say and fewer ways with which to annoy the people around us.

Falling asleep should be a lovely release from reality. A way to shut down and shut up and let it all go. But like a Timex watch, our brains just keep right on ticking, this time without the reality check switch turned on.

Little random pockets of stored information pop open and play themselves out in bizarre combinations for our dreaming pleasure. It’s probably a very good thing that we promptly forget over 90% of everything we dream. It’s hard enough to make sense of this chaotic world when we’re awake, never mind trying to glean some profound meaning from the gobbledygook our brain manufactures for us during the night.

The best part of dreaming is waking up and realizing that you were only dreaming; that chess pieces do not actually talk to each other and whine about where they are being moved to on the board, and that you absolutely did not, and quite possibly never will, become trapped in an elevator with a very nervous live skunk. That’s just a little preview of hell and should give you the motivation to turn your life around as soon as possible. Start with not eating cold pizza right before bed.

I suppose my ‘theory’ is that dream interpretation is nothing more than a pleasant little time waster, sort of like inventing excuses for not doing something you had no intention of doing even without rational explanations, or reading your daily horoscope, or opening up a fortune cookie.

So dream on, my friend. It’s not that serious.

Was it a Dream?

My dreams are often so ridiculous that if they ‘came true’ I’d think I was still dreaming. Like the one where I see a child climb up on a railing and start to fall and I race down several flights of stairs to catch him before he hits the ground.

I have had some prophetic moments, though.

Our family was eating dinner once when the phone rang, and out of the blue I dropped my fork and exclaimed “O my God. Somebody died.” Mom came back from taking the call and delivered the news looking sad and confused and directly at me. “Uncle Colin had a massive heart attack and passed away in the hospital this afternoon.” He hadn’t been sick, he wasn’t old, it was completely unexpected. After that I tried to keep my sudden premonitions inside my head, so as to appear slightly less weird at the end of the day. Although it was always a toss-up – do I blurt this out before the fact, or wait until afterwards and say I knew that was going to happen? Either way, the sceptical expressions are about the same.

When my grandma died (she was 99) I didn’t go to her funeral for a number of selfish reasons. We were a thousand miles away, my kids were small, I didn’t want to take time off work, and I really hate funerals. The guilt after the fact about that, and remembering how many times grandma had wanted to sit and talk with me and I just hadn’t made the effort or taken the time, made me heartsick, remorseful, and unbearably sad.

One night, about a month after she died, I dreamed that she was standing at the foot of my bed, patting my feet, the way a mom pats a baby’s back, and softly murmuring. Grandma always said ‘there there” when we were little and upset about something and her gentle soft pats always made the hurt go away. “There, there. There, there. Don’t you worry. I know that you loved me.”

In the morning I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and the gloom and regrets were gone. And every time I thought about her doing that for me a beautiful sensation of ease and calm and love for her would flow through me.

Was it just a dream invented by my subconscious mind to help me leave the depression behind? Or can the spirits of the departed really come back to comfort the living? I shared my “dream” experience with my sister and she had that same expression on her face that I remember from the dinner table scene so many years ago.

That’s okay though. I know she loves me anyway.

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