A friend once said to me that in our dreams we do not make up faces that we have not seen before.
I want to believe this is true for some reason. I know there is no way to test this theory. It is more of a metaphysical or philosophical theory.
There is something very spiritual about it to me. This idea that even those you do not know, strangers you pass along the street or move your cart for at Costco might end up in your dream.
I think I like this concept because it means we are all connected and that even the smallest of gestures connects us to each other.
Lately, my dreams have been intense. They seem to go on forever with lots of details. I think this means I am getting good deep sleep. I think some of it too is longing for connection. I’ve been isolated. We all have. People are still working from home. I’ve lost most of my local friends the last few years. The people I love and who love me live far way.
Random people keep showing up in my dreams. An influencer from Instagram who seems pleasant and is always surrounded by pretty things and exotic locations. Of course, I do not “know” her. I think I might want to. Or someone like her.
A poet I interact with on social media shows up in my dream. We read poetry and talk about God while washing dishes, perhaps because my imagination is limited to the quodatian tasks I do here at home. Or perhaps because the poet seems like someone you could do regular things with. Or perhaps because dreams are just weird.
The lady I briefly interacted with at the gas station shows up in my dream. She makes the same joke she did while I pumped my gas and, in the dream, I search for ways to continue the conversation and end up finding out all about her.
Nearly 20 years ago, my childhood best friend committed suicide. But last night, she showed up in my dream. She often does. And when she does, it was before darkness and depression took over her mind. When she was young and quirky. When she wore mix-matched clothes on purpose and made up fake languages.
Last night we laughed until we snorted and thought we’d pee our pants. We ate that salmon she made me when she first moved into that adorable 1920’s apartment in Los Felix. The one with all the built-ins and the coved ceiling and arched doors.
After dinner we took a walk to look at the blooming bougainvilleas in her neighborhood and swore we saw an old movie star watering her lawn.
And before I woke, I embraced her, smelled her hair, and held her much longer than I had when she had been here, when she had been alive.
We did not know how happy we were back then. It is difficult to understand joy unless you have the contrast, of hurt and sadness, of loss and pain.
I woke up sobbing---knowing she is really gone and then sobbed with joy that for some reason, I got to spend my dream with her and then sobbed that I ever knew such a vivacious, curious, talented individual.
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Next week is Undaunted Joy’s One Year Anniversary!
I look forward to celebrating with you!
I rarely have dreams . . . I wonder why that is? Or perhaps I have them but wake up not recalling what they were. I do know there have been times when dreams brought out the deepest of emotions . . . sobbing as you described. Such a blessing because it means that person is still in our hearts.
Wonderful thoughts on dreams! I had a very weird dream last night. Years ago I had a dream that brought me joy. My blind dog (deceased) came to me and I was so happy. We were in a field playing and then he ran away and would not come back. I woke up sobbing. And then, I realized he was no longer blind and I felt real joy. The kind that hugs you and makes you feel good even though you are sad.