Rambling on about dreaming and its connection to life…

I still wander about among those I have lost in my dreams. Their silhouettes linger at the edges of sleep, woven into the tapestry of shadows that haunt the corridors of my mind. Each night, I drift through a restless twilight, where memory and longing entwine, and where absence is dressed in the gentle illusion of presence. I converse with Micheal, Mama, and Daddy at times there, and others as well. The blessing of vivid dreams and dreams that echo things I desire to know are at times overwhelming and so very real. So real that at times when I ease back into the world of the living, I can hear them still, see them, even feel them close.  

My heart, bruised but yearning, conjures their laughter and the warmth of their touch from fragments of reminiscence. Their voices echo in the hush between waking and dreaming—romanticized, idealized, yet forever unreachable. In this bittersweet reverie, I hold them close, even as I know they reside only in the darkness behind my closed eyes, immortalized by love and loss alike. It’s just a dream I tell myself as I wake, sometimes with tears, others with a smile but always with a flutter in my heart and soul. My mind refuses to let them go, just as my heart does too.

Sometimes my dreams take me to places that seem familiar, while at other times, I find myself in landscapes that exist only within the boundaries of my imagination. It is curious how these dreamscapes emerge from a mind that is supposedly at rest. With the body settled into stillness, perhaps the mind seizes this opportunity to embark on its own journey, entering realms accessible only through the gateway of sleep and quietude. This raises the question: when the world outside grows silent, does the mind awaken to explore worlds unattainable in waking life? I wonder, I ponder, I embrace the idea of what if’s and is it possibles’ and If only’s. I am a dreamer, a daydreamer and night dreamer… Someone who wonders about the unknowns, the mysteries of life with an open mind holding onto the idea that strange things are possible, I treasure the idea of magical things.

Some days I wake up weary from my dream journey of the night. It is as if the weight of dreaming can carry into the task of living, how can that be so? The mind is a mysterious thing, full of stored images and information that escape being found when needed and other times force their way to the top when least expected. Are dreams a window into the unconscious or are they random brain activity fueled by emotions felt while awake and suppressed. For me I at times find the answers to problems in my dreams, often helped by talking to those I have lost that reside there.

This morning I woke from my dreams into a world that was quiet and still. I, for some unknown reason, carried into my waking life the quote from Shakespeare’s Hamlet… “To Die, To Sleep… To sleep, perchance to dream…  To Dream: Ay, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come.”  Why I do not know… It is my mystery for the day, what has since made me stop and think and wonder. Why Hamlet echoed in my head this morning of all things, a bubble up from my days of English Literature classes… only God knows.  My dreams last night were not remembered this morning. Most days I bring them into the waking moment with me, but not today. Ever since I have wondered, when the sleep of death comes, are there dreams… It is said that after death for 7 minutes the mind plays our best memories for us to see… This afternoon I am pondering that…wondering what those 7 minutes would be like. For today I think I will just try and save room in my mind for the unimaginable, the mysterious, and dare to dream of wondrous things…
                           To sleep, perchance to dream…. Maybe a nap is in order.