Dreams

I wake up, get out of bed and head down the hall to the kitchen to squint at the clock over the stove.  It's ten til six, just like it was yesterday morning, and yes,  the morning before that. 


I pour a cup of coffee and tip toe back into the bedroom.  Bob is still asleep.  I know when he'll wake up too, for his internal clock is just as precise and predictable as mine.  Bob will open his eyes at 6:15.  


Quietly, I turn on my little book light and climb back into bed.  Comfortably seated with two pillows behind my back and the comforter draped over my lower body, I cradle the warm mug in both hands, enjoying the heat and wonderful aroma of hot black coffee.  Taking my first sip, I sit back to enjoy the quiet of the morning and let my mind wander and wonder.  


Uncanny, I think, how I wake up at exactly the same time every morning.  I mean TO THE MINUTE. And typically, Bob does too.  


Listening to Bob breathe and Sweetie snore, I let my mind sift back through the landscape of the previous night's dreams, trying to piece together the fragments I can remember.


 I'm surprised to have dreamed about a young man I knew a long time ago when I was in college.  I had not consciously thought about him in several years.  Puzzling, I wonder why he has re-occupied a place in my thoughts, or....... perhaps more intriguingly, is it possible that he never left them but has been lurking beneath the surface for going on forty years now.


Oh well, I'm sure there's a lot more buried in my subconscious than my conscious mind will ever fathom.

     

Musing in the early morning twilight, I wonder if it's possible that we have the relative importance of our waking and sleeping hours exactly reversed.  


Most of us probably believe that sleep is secondary to wakefulness.  Isn't it commonly held that the purpose of sleep is to rest up and restore the body and mind for our active and waking hours, the hours we consider to be our 'real lives'?  

But what if the opposite is true, if, in fact, wakefulness is the servant of sleep?  What if the purpose of being awake is just to enable us to participate in our other more important lives, the ones we conduct in those surreal dreamscapes every night? 

 "Life is a dream.'   That phrase has been so often repeated as to become hackneyed and trite.  But maybe the reason it's been repeated so many times is because of its essential truth.  


I wrote the lyrics to this song, 'Dreams',  a little over a year ago.  I've been meaning to record it for a while, but have been slow to get around to it.  Why?


 I'm not sure exactly, except to say that my waking mind tends to be a self important perfectionist who is seldom pleased with any of my efforts.  But, today, I've decided to tell my waking mind to shut up.


The fact is, EVERYTHING I do, at least while awake, is imperfect.  But what choice do any of us have but to keep on trying?  That's what life is, I suppose: just one little effort after another with the hope of occasionally getting something right.    

 

Dreams never lie

They just surprise

Like little jokes or puns

Some things that you know

And more that you don't

Are conjured one by one

 

A glittering fantastic show

Contrived for you and you alone

You're the star of every act

Essential truths, not tawdry facts

Mythic visions, epic love

Heroic deeds and daring stunts

There you are in every scene

The staring role in your own dream

 

A sleepy tourist of the night

The unknown country your own mind

 

 

 

Finally, if you, like me, are curious about the deeper meaning of your own dream life, here are a couple of links you may find of interest:  www.dreamforth.com and www.dreambible.com  

 

Wishing you sweet dreams and peaceful sleep.  

Martha Maria 


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