The Overactive Dreamer: When Sleep Gets Real
Bedtime is getting weird lately. My dreams have been too lucid. While my brain is normally overactive while I sleep, lately it has been more so than ever. I guess it is not so bad; I get to frolic in fields in the sky and hang out with creepy yet super fun characters who take me to colorful places. Sounds like an acid trip right? Not that you know what that is like! But seriously, it seems that the fragments of dreams I normally cannot remember so well the next morning are increasingly becoming clearer and prolonged. Dreams that end abruptly, consequently wake me, then when I am finally able to fall back asleep, the dreams start back up where they left off.
With the occasional nightmare, I would say once every two weeks, overall my dreams are pleasant. However, at what point can I start to wonder where all of this is coming from, right out of the blue? Or those re-occurring dreams that hang out with me for months, dreams that feel like they are pushing a message to me. I have kept from opening up a dream interpretation book for, well, forever. However, I am starting to really try to figure out what particular situations in my dreams could mean. A trip to the library may be in order.
For as long as I can remember, I use to associate dreams with temporary files on a computer. If you ever take a look in your temporary folders, you will see a ton of images and photos which have been stored there from an extended period of your online browsing time. I do not look at this often, but on occasion I do- enough to know that a lot of those images are hard to even remember. Where did I see a picture of an unfamiliar blonde woman holding her puppy, or car ads, or business logos. They are temporarily stored on your computer like the images we see every day are stored in some part of our brain, perhaps.
Is this why my dreams are so whacked out? Because I browse a ton of websites daily, read crazy books, watch the sad stories on the news every evening, write fiction- where it is important to pick at the loopy side of your brain? Just early the other morning I woke up for water, went back to sleep after sitting there thinking about random things I had to do during the day. I went into this dream where I was driving up the parkway videotaping a lightning storm on my cell phone. The storm was violent but stopped suddenly to turn into snow. The snow went on and I continued recording. I soon approached a bridge. Midway down, a massive tornado ripped through town and over the river the bridge was suspended above. I continued recording the storm until the bridge collapsed into a V down to the river. Myself and a handful of other cars were soon fighting for our lives.
At this point I was clinging onto the side of the bridge, out of my car, watching the tornado in awe when a loud voice in the form of some type of cloud appeared. It was a clear cloud, some type of mass but not clearly defined as a puffy white cloud we see when we look up. As the tornado dissipated the figure came right up to my face and began to talk to me. It told me to never wish bad upon people, but to help them instead; it said to live for me, and to live right. I said that I would start, crawling up the bridge and to a tunnel that would lead me to safety. The voice continued for a moment, reminding me to be wholly good. Myself and all the other people on the broken bridge were safe.
All I am saying is maybe, for once, we should literally listen to our dreams. Not the ones where we we are allowed access to the mall department store as a closet (best dream ever), or maybe even the dream that has us pushing 140 on the highway, but there is something to be said for the ones that really speak to us in a heavy way.
I have never had a dream that spoke to me about anything like this. This is the one dream I can say that has ever affected me enough to keep thinking about it for days and write about to the public. Whether it was a collection of temporary files is up to you, but for me, I think this time I will take it as something deeper than that.