The Power of Dreams

I've mentioned before how much I enjoy dreaming. I especially like that state between fully waking and sleep, as you drift in and out of consciousness, in and out of dreams. Dreams are often at their most vivid during this time. Sometimes they're so vivid that they linger like a real memory. I remember that I once dreamt that Burt Reynolds had been drinking in my local. When I woke up I could remember every detail - what he'd been wearing, the exact spot he'd been standing at the bar, what he'd been drinking, what we'd talked about. For a few minutes I thought that it had actually happened. Then I came to my senses - what the hell would a Hollywood star (even Burt Reynolds) be doing in a back street pub in my town? Nevertheless, I still felt disappointed.

Most frustrating are those dreams you can't quite remember. However, some feeling stirred by them often lingers at the periphery of your consciousness after you wake up. It's like an itch you can't scratch. I remember that I once woke up feeling an incredible sense of loss, as if something wonderfully precious had slipped out of my life. But for the life of me, I couldn't recall anything of the dream which had caused this feeling. I suspect it was about a lost love, a common theme of the dreams I do remember, probably to do with one of the times I let the chance of a relationship with someone I cared deeply about slip through my fingers. Another time, I woke up crying. Again, I remember nothing of the dream behind the tears. Perhaps it was another of those lost loves. Perhaps my subconscious mind could accept that one particular relationship was never going to be, whereas my waking self persists in vainly hoping that it can happen. Who knows?