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| Answering the questions people have asked (or I have asked myself) about my past, present, or future. |
I find myself remembering fewer and fewer of my dreams, although I don't know why. I think it's the pressure of a job that gives me few opportunities to truly relax. But when a dream truly reaches into the crevices of my soul, I'll never forget it.
Recently I had this creepy dream where I saw this gigantic hairy cross between a housefly and a hornet that blew green bubbles out of its trumpet-like nose. The next thing I know, that creature has littered the air with bubbles and it's flying right for me. That's when I woke up. I called it the "bombfly." It has no real-world equivalent I can find.
Occasionally I'll dream I'm back in college at Mizzou and I've missed a class or test or assignment. Nearly 25 years after graduation, it's still haunting me.
I really wish I could dream my way into some gigantic 18th Century European ball. I can't program my brain to make that happen, unfortunately.
It's called "lucid dreaming" when you become aware you're in a dream and you figure out how to manipulate it to your desire. I've never found a way to make that happen regularly and effectively, even though I've seen special light-signaling glasses that claim to help.
However, If I'm listening to news while I'm snoozing in the morning, it has a way of manipulating my dreams. My subconscious will supply its own video to the anchor's words, and it can get peculiar. One time I was dozing on a Saturday morning with the radio on, tuned to a gardening talk show. I dreamed of waving a hose over my front lawn in Kansas City and turning the brown, crabgrass-infested turf into something green and lovely.
I tend to think of my dreams as my brain playing a free-association game, sticking things together from the crevices of my mind and seeing what comes out. I don't try to interpret anything. I just let the results play out and try to understand it later.
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