Dream a Little Dream of Me

Dreams can be strange things, don’t you think? They can be elusive, mysterious, and downright frustrating. But they can also be funny, exciting, even sexual. I’ve always had very vivid dreams. And as a result, I’ve always been interested in them and what they were trying to tell me. So far, I’ve come up pretty empty on the analytical end of my dreams, but I still like to think about them.

Sharing dreams can be a whole different ballgame. I tend to keep my dreams pretty private, although sometimes I like to share them if they involve people I’m comfortable with. And if it’s an innocent dream. Which, in my case, means I keep a whole lot of dreams to myself. Not because they aren’t innocent (although, I can’t claim to always have innocent dreams), but rather because they usually come out of left field and I don’t know what to think about them. (Wow, lots of baseball references and I don’t even like baseball. Haha.) Anyway, back to what I was saying. I also don’t mind sharing the scary or troubling dreams. But it’s harder to share the nice ones. I almost think that if I share it, the other person would belittle it or take it the wrong way, lessening the happiness I’d gotten from it.

Why is it that dreams pick up on things or people that you haven’t thought about or seen for ages? Why do dreams sometimes involve people that you’ve never met? And why is it that dreams can sometimes weave together the real and the imaginary without making it seem strange? Take my latest dream as an example. The edited version, of course.

I was having a get together at my house. It was the house I live in now. My guests were arriving and I was greeting them and inviting them inside. Suddenly, a man that I didn’t know (in real life or in my dream) was walking toward the back of the last group to arrive and was acting like he was going to walk on in like the rest of them. I stopped him halfway through my garage and told him that I wasn’t going to let him in because I didn’t know him and he wasn’t invited. He tried to be charming and get me to let him in, but I refused. I warned him that if he didn’t leave, I was going to call the police. When he didn’t move, I pulled out my cell phone and called 911. I told them there was an intruder and I wanted a police officer to make him leave. They informed me that one would get to me as soon as they were able. Then suddenly the dream shifts and it’s daylight out and this strange man and I are walking through a horse stable looking at the horses, particularly the babies. We were making small talk and I was gushing over the foals. (I don’t know how much time passed, but it seemed like quite a while. Maybe even a whole afternoon.) We were sitting in this little overhang area next to the corral still talking and watching the horses. The strange man wasn’t strange anymore. Now he was Ashton Kutcher. We kept talking and laughing and as I sat there smiling at him, I knew I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want him to ever leave. Finally the police showed up and I told them there wasn’t a problem anymore.

I woke up feeling happy, but it’s weird because, like I said before, where did that come from? A: I’m married. B: I don’t have a particular fondness for Ashton Kutcher nor had I watched any of his movies lately. The only remote connection I can make is that I’ve been reading a lot of romance novels lately and that must have played into my dream. But all the details still have me perplexed. I mean, even taking Ashton Kutcher out of the equation (which by itself is bizarre!), why would I be falling for a guy that I met here at my house which I wouldn’t be living in if I weren’t with my husband? And the quick nighttime to daytime shift was weird, as well as the walking through a stable. I have never been in a place like it before. I guess that’s what makes dreams so frustrating.

Maybe even more frustrating than a dream you can’t figure out the meaning of, is the one you can’t quite remember. The one where only little snippets hit you throughout the morning, but you can’t quite piece it all together. It’s disconcerting and sometimes gives me feelings of déjà vu. Kinda freaky, but I guess that’s just me. Kinda freaky. Maybe it’s better to not remember all your dreams. Maybe it’s too heavy to deal with on a conscious level.

But even though they remain a mystery to me, I still look forward to those stories that play out in my mind every night while I sleep. Sure does make it harder to wake up in the morning though!