At certain times in my life, dreams play smaller or bigger roles in my everyday. I think they pop up, sometimes, when I’m not necessarily looking for their guidance. But when dreamy things start clustering together, I need to open my head and listen.
This latest jag of dream sensitivity began when we were outside of New York City. Staying the night in a high-rise hotel, we were awakened by a 2:30 a.m. fire alarm. Some yahoo had hung their wet clothes from their room’s sprinkler head and when the weight broke it off, water poured out everywhere. An hour and a half later we were all allowed back in and my daughters were greeted with a message from their friend back in Troy.
“Be careful. I dreamed the hotel you’re staying in had an emergency,” he said. Apparently this isn’t an unusual occurrence with this guy. I can’t wait to sit down and hear more about his precognitions.
Earlier this week I was reading an article in one of my favorite magazines, The Sun. It was an interview and they were talking about paying attention to your night time stories, but not necessarily taking them literally. Obviously, soon afterward, I had a very vivid dream with part of it devoted to Marci being angry with me.
I tried to make sense of it on a gut level or figuratively, but nothing really bubbled up making any sense, (and how could it, really? Who could be mad with little ol’ me?). The next day, as my mom, Taylor, our cousin and I jumped out of the van at the airport, Marci asked if we had our passports. Since we were just taking off to California, we didn’t need them. But she got angry and was sure I’d told her at home I had them. I was just going to use my license and Taylor, her school ID.
Had I no dream forewarning me of her anger, I would’ve maybe lashed back. We don’t fight a lot, she and I, thankfully. This outburst on her part could very well be my fault, too, for misunderstanding her earlier at home. I like to blame my forgetfulness on the ever decreasing amount of steroids I’m taking. As my old high school chemistry teacher used to say when one of us didn’t turn in our homework, “any excuse is good in a storm.”
On the plane out here, Taylor and our cousin Meredith popped another piece into my latest jigsaw dream awareness. Several years back, both of them had the exact same dream. They were up in heaven and each were searching for a multi-colored backpack. There was nothing around them, in each of their dreams, but when they found the pack, they put in on their backs and carried it with them.
Jung or Freud or any modern day hack could probably interpret that dream forever and a day. But both of them having such a specific dream, separately was more intriguing to me.
The way we’re synchronized with each other or how some things happen simultaneously has always blown my mind. The incredibly mysterious stuff that happens all around us, like dreams coming true, brings such richness and joy to my life. I think it’s partly because I like knowing that there’s so much more out there, maybe even right under our noses.
That comforts me. I like that the universe or God or the natural world is messing with me. I love knowing that we don’t know. A dream glimpse behind the curtain doesn’t reveal Oz trying to pull the wool over our eyes, but instead a profound and exciting bag of infinite possibilities.
It’s still early in the day, but I can’t wait to tumble toward sleep again tonight.