Dreams are weird. I’m the kind of person who usually remembers dreams (and dreams in color, something I guess only 3% of the population does). This means I wake up in the morning with some pretty amazing stories to tell.
Monday is a recent example. While I can’t recall the entire dream, there is one scene that stuck with me. I was outside somewhere, and a group of six or so guys decided to attack me. Not giant, burly men, mind you. They were all lean and not much taller than I. Nor was there any extreme sense of malice in the attack. It was almost like it was a game (huh…).
Anyways, they attacked me and I incapacitated all of them without breaking a sweat or taking a hit. One after another, they all went down. When I was finished, I just continued on my merry way. A couple of them that were still conscious insisted I was a cyborg/robot to have won so easily.
This is an awesome dream. I’m okay with having dreams where I pwn. In fact, I enjoy it. Bring it on!
Yet not all dreams leave me feeling quite so awesome. A few years ago, when I was still dating my ex, I had a dream that made me want to call him and scream at him. In this dream, my ex sat me down with his martian husband and told me it was over.
Yeah you read right. Martian husband. My ex was cheating on me with a martian, to whom he got married. Just… what?
This martian was an older man, too. Gray hair, signs of wrinkles about his face, but lean and in good health. I was about 17/18 years old at the time, my ex a year older. Why did I dream about my beloved leaving me for a 50-something-year-old martian? I think it was a warning for what was to come.
I’m just going to leave that there. I’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks.
I love dreams. I love interpreting them. They can tell us so much about our own hearts and minds if only we listen. Yet even so, sometimes we can only understand them in retrospect. This was one such case for me.