A Mid-Summer's Night Dreams

There have been scores of books written on the subject of dreams. What do they mean? Are they a reflection of your subconscience? Are they your inner thoughts portrayed in vivid detail? I am fond of saying a dream is simply a goal without a plan. After a recent midsummer’s night dreams, I think all of these answers are too simple. Nothing I’ve ever read prepared me for the unusual, somewhat frightening and truly odd mix of dreams on this particular night.

I can’t blame my night of intense and bizarre dreams on spicy food, a similar recent event or a problem at home that demanded closure. The sequence of the dreams doesn’t fit any profile of my previous dreams. The events just piled on and were so mindboggling, I woke up and wrote them down. Restless doesn’t describe how I felt, nor does it portray how disturbing and real the dreams seemed to be.

I think most people have one or two dreams that reoccur. In one of my oft occuring dreams, I am being chased by a faceless monster; just as it grabs for me, I take off, flying away from its clutches. I soar, easily escaping the threat and then just sail the skies for hours in effortless flight. I always wake up from this dream feeling great.

In the second dream, one I’ve had since I was a youngin’, I fall off a cliff. Now, we’ve all read the myth that if you fall off a cliff in a dream and land, you die in your sleep. I must have a strong survival instinct. When I fall, I land on top of a 1960 blue Plymouth station wagon that conveniently has a mattress on top to break my fall. How’s that for revisionism in mid-dream!

I am one of those folks who dream in color, can smell things, can even taste. I’ve often awakened just as I was to take a bite of my mother’s chocolate cake. The drool on my chin and the mouth ready to bite, are strong indicators that I really buy into a dream. However, this highly developed ability was not an asset on the August night in question.

I am being chased. I’m running through a jungle. (I’ve never been to a jungle.) I stop to catch my breath and a giant yellow python starts to wrap itself around my body and begins to squeeze. I punch the python in the face and as it opens its mouth, I reach in and pull its insides out. I literally turn the snake inside out and escape. Messy.

Seconds later, I am in the offices of the newspaper where I was a writer in the 1980s. My boss and mentor is alive (she died three years ago). She is asking me to save the newspaper which is being bought out. The scene shifts and water is flooding the room where all of the century-old issues of the paper are stored. I manage to get one of each issue out before the remainder are destroyed. My boss dies peacefully knowing her legacy is intact. Cleansing?

Flash forward. I am debuting in the lead role in “The Wizard of Oz”. However, they have changed the character to be Don instead of Dorothy and I prove that a guy can really sell “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. I then do a series of commercials with the Munchkins, selling a cereal that really is good for kids. Ego or heart?

Between the snake, the flood and the musical, I wake up exhausted and bewildered. I could feel the snake’s scales; the yellow was blinding; I could hear my friend’s voice and was disappointed not to see her when I awakened; and man, could I deliver a ballad! At least I woke up to cheers.....

What was the meaning of these dreams? I fear snakes more than anything. But, what was that inside out thing? I miss my friend more than I can ever say. Is there unfinished business there? I’ve done “The Wizard of Oz” and am about to do it again; but please, I’m a better choice for the Cowardly Lion. Don? Auntie Em! Auntie Em! Where did that come from?

I’d like to know if anyone else can top this night of dreams. Meanwhile, I’m going to tuck these powerful dreams into a drawer and ponder the meanings another time. Sweet dreams! Now, what does that mean? Am I to be chased by a huge chocolate cake? Till next time.....

A Mid-Summer's Night Dreams

There have been scores of books written on the subject of dreams. What do they mean? Are they a reflection of your subconscience? Are they your inner thoughts portrayed in vivid detail? I am fond of saying a dream is simply a goal without a plan. After a recent midsummer’s night dreams, I think all of these answers are too simple. Nothing I’ve ever read prepared me for the unusual, somewhat frightening and truly odd mix of dreams on this particular night.

I can’t blame my night of intense and bizarre dreams on spicy food, a similar recent event or a problem at home that demanded closure. The sequence of the dreams doesn’t fit any profile of my previous dreams. The events just piled on and were so mindboggling, I woke up and wrote them down. Restless doesn’t describe how I felt, nor does it portray how disturbing and real the dreams seemed to be.

I think most people have one or two dreams that reoccur. In one of my oft occuring dreams, I am being chased by a faceless monster; just as it grabs for me, I take off, flying away from its clutches. I soar, easily escaping the threat and then just sail the skies for hours in effortless flight. I always wake up from this dream feeling great.

In the second dream, one I’ve had since I was a youngin’, I fall off a cliff. Now, we’ve all read the myth that if you fall off a cliff in a dream and land, you die in your sleep. I must have a strong survival instinct. When I fall, I land on top of a 1960 blue Plymouth station wagon that conveniently has a mattress on top to break my fall. How’s that for revisionism in mid-dream!

I am one of those folks who dream in color, can smell things, can even taste. I’ve often awakened just as I was to take a bite of my mother’s chocolate cake. The drool on my chin and the mouth ready to bite, are strong indicators that I really buy into a dream. However, this highly developed ability was not an asset on the August night in question.

I am being chased. I’m running through a jungle. (I’ve never been to a jungle.) I stop to catch my breath and a giant yellow python starts to wrap itself around my body and begins to squeeze. I punch the python in the face and as it opens its mouth, I reach in and pull its insides out. I literally turn the snake inside out and escape. Messy.

Seconds later, I am in the offices of the newspaper where I was a writer in the 1980s. My boss and mentor is alive (she died three years ago). She is asking me to save the newspaper which is being bought out. The scene shifts and water is flooding the room where all of the century-old issues of the paper are stored. I manage to get one of each issue out before the remainder are destroyed. My boss dies peacefully knowing her legacy is intact. Cleansing?

Flash forward. I am debuting in the lead role in “The Wizard of Oz”. However, they have changed the character to be Don instead of Dorothy and I prove that a guy can really sell “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”. I then do a series of commercials with the Munchkins, selling a cereal that really is good for kids. Ego or heart?

Between the snake, the flood and the musical, I wake up exhausted and bewildered. I could feel the snake’s scales; the yellow was blinding; I could hear my friend’s voice and was disappointed not to see her when I awakened; and man, could I deliver a ballad! At least I woke up to cheers.....

What was the meaning of these dreams? I fear snakes more than anything. But, what was that inside out thing? I miss my friend more than I can ever say. Is there unfinished business there? I’ve done “The Wizard of Oz” and am about to do it again; but please, I’m a better choice for the Cowardly Lion. Don? Auntie Em! Auntie Em! Where did that come from?

I’d like to know if anyone else can top this night of dreams. Meanwhile, I’m going to tuck these powerful dreams into a drawer and ponder the meanings another time. Sweet dreams! Now, what does that mean? Am I to be chased by a huge chocolate cake? Till next time.....