The Sleeper Must Awaken
I wrote a blog a while back, “All I Have To Do…” (just scroll down, I can’t be dealing with inserting links. It’s 5.30 in the morning as I write this) in which I discussed my fascination with dreams and their meaning, that they’re a good way of sorting out your worries and conscience while you sleep. In it I promised to mention another dream I had a while back that I still haven’t figured out. It was a particularly heavy one, emotionally, because of how real it felt.
Before I tell you the details, I should point out first that I have NO kids.
So I’m sitting at a desk doing something, and my daughter is in the room with me. I’d say she’s about eight years old. I’m feeling very sad. Grieving I would say. She also has a certain sadness in her eyes, but more of an acceptance about her. It turns out, in the dream, my other daughter, her little sister, died a year or two previously, and more than my own grief, I’m worried for the older daughter, how this has affected her. But she looks at me, smiling, and reassures me that it’s okay for me to cry. I break down in tears. The sensation I remember feeling most is how proud I am of this little girl in front of me, at how grown up she is for one so young. She tells me we both miss the younger daughter but that’s it’s all going to be ok, and there was this understanding / bonding between the two of us, and we hugged. Then I woke up, crying. It felt like a punch in the stomach for about thirty minutes after I woke up. The ‘grief’ I had experienced, coupled with the realization that neither of them was real.
I have no idea where all this came from. It never ceases to amaze me the ‘backstory’ our brains write for us in our dreams, that makes the situation we’re in completely acceptable and making perfect sense at the time. I sometimes wonder if THIS life is like that. Do we actually KNOW our lives really happened, or have our brains, just this second, ‘retro’ written all events right up to now, in a mere moment? Like it just went “Oh yeah.. Big Bang, cavemen, World War 2, our schooldays, present! ALL makes sense!” Maybe, just as everyone in our dreams is a facet of ourselves, we are all just facets of whoever’s dreaming us? And how thrown are they gonna be by all OUR stuff when they wake up?
Anyway, I now need some sleep. Nighty night.