When Is A Dream Just A Dream

I’ve always been a super, and I mean super, vivid dreamer. In fact, I have dreams from childhood that I can still recall with sharp detail. I also have had a series of recurring dreams, begun in childhood, that I still occasionally have to this day. I used to dream The Wizard Of Oz (combination of the book and the movie) in its entirety, on a regular basis, just for example.

I had a really vivid dream last night, which of course, based on the above-is not surprising. But, it prompted me to want to write about it,so-here we are.

So, to start, let me just say: I hate winter. I mean, Hate It Aggressively. And by aggressively, I mean that if winter were a person’s face that you could punch repeatedly, that bitch would be dead. Sorry, that was over the top. I just really want you to understand the depth of my despise.

So, now knowing that about me- here’s the crazy thing; Last night I had this beautiful, magical, peaceful dream about running (in a happy jogging kind of way) through a breathtaking forest at night, on a snow covered path. It was so lucid that I believe that, in my sleep, I was breathing as if I’d been jogging. And not that out-of-breath gaspy kind of breathing- I mean the kind that is almost meditative. If you’re a runner, you’ll know what I mean by that, I think. If not, I can only describe it as this steady Zen-like trace, falling into your stride, where your breathing and pace mesh perfectly.

The details, these many hours later, are still fresh: the muted beat of my sneakers as they rhythmically thumped on the packed snow. The rustle of leaves above, an owl staring down from the branches as I passed below. The sound of a certain kind of quiet that only a forest at night can make.

Sounds like bullshit, right? But, I kid you not. It was spectacular and other-worldly, and so unexpected, given my winter hate fest of late. It was, quite simply, a gift.

Believe it or not, I gave up long, long ago questioning what my crazy, intensely vivid dreams “mean”. I just accept them as the gifts that they are. I rarely share them with anyone, as well. One, I’m afraid they won’t come back again if I give away their magic. And two, let’s face it- dreams are nearly impossible to do justice to when trying to explain them. I mean, the above description of last nights dream is pretty decent, if I say so myself, but it’s flat and lifeless compared to the actual dream- those moments of looking down at my own feet as they skipped and flew over dips and divots and stones, while my hands grabbed at low branches, like a female Tarzan- I can’t make you see and feel that in the way that I did. But,that’s how it was.

To answer my own question, “When is a dream just a dream?” – I say “never”. Sometimes, like last night, they’re just a gift. I don’t like winter anymore today than I did yesterday, but the gift of feeling only the beauty of it, without the coldness, that was the gift.

Sometimes they’re a warning, or omen. Sometimes they’re a story you need to see. A message, a wish, a fear, or a hope. Dreams are all of those things.

I have to be honest, I never really know where my posts are going from start to finish. I didn’t have a plan or point here, just a simple share for a reason I don’t need to know. Yet, I feel compelled to leave you with some “wise words”. I’m afraid this will have to do, it’s all I’ve got at the moment:

Embrace and enjoy your dreams, accept whatever it is they want to tell you, or show you.

Bam, wow…I know, I know.