Weaving Dreams

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bedofdreams

Dream Weaver, I believe you can get me through the night

Dream Weaver, I believe we can reach the morning light

Fly me high through the starry skies

Maybe to an astral plane

Cross the highways of fantasy

— Gary Wright, copyright MCA Music Publishing


Who isn’t fascinated by dreams?

For my immediate family, dreaming can be fascinating, but exhausting. We wake up, not refreshed, but feeling as if we’ve traveled through time and space:

“There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone.”

Well, Rod Serling called it the Twilight Zone, anyway. Some people think we travel to a parallel universe when we dream. Others believe dreams are a way our subconscious communicates with our conscious mind. Dreaming doesn’t seem to be the same for all of us — some rarely remember their dreams, and others describe dreams that are flat and colorless, almost two-dimensional. Some don’t dream at all, or if they do, they are unaware of it.

My dreams take on a life of their own, and it’s not always a pleasant experience. I don’t remember every dream, but I do still recall some dreams from when I was so young I couldn’t read. I think the dream I had where I was falling from a cloud with Winnie-the-Pooh was triggered by an A.A. Milne story my parents read to me.

God only knows what brought on the dream of the “witch house,” that I’ve remembered since about age five. It terrified me, at the time — I can still visualize a cutaway of a huge, multistory house, with witches doing nasty things in every room. My family was in a room on the ground floor, oblivious of all that was going on in the rest of the house, and I was a distant observer, unable to warn them.

More recently, I had a dream that I was living in a nice Colonial-style house in modern-day New Jersey, and I looked out into my yard to see Revolutionary forces swarming down my street. I did, in fact, live in such a town and George Washington’s troops came through there. But I lived there a quarter-century ago, and wasn’t particularly caught up in Revolutionary history.

In one scary dream, the sky was filled with tornadoes that tore into the safe, suburban landscape. Then the sky turned black and a neon grid filled the heavens. Scores of spaceships — right out of Flash Gordon — rained down, clearing the path for a massive ship that I somehow knew was Venusian. It was far too realistic, and I still watch the night sky at times, imagining that bright grid stretching to the horizon.

I recently realized I dream about houses a lot. Not fancy houses – just normal, everyday houses. But I can picture every room, every detail so clearly, I sometimes wonder if those images don’t come from dreams but rather from some genetic memory. Maybe my relatives lived in those houses.

What about you? What do you dream about? Do you dream in color or black-and-white? Do you analyze your dreams?  I’d love to hear from you!

About anyadavis

Anya Davis writes in the real world, on a slightly tilted axis. Faux angels, humans with the genes of gods . . . and wolves. Dark suspense and wickedly erotic paranormals: reality, reimagined. Anya is a member of the Ohio Valley chapter of Romance Writers of America. She is unpublished, but working hard.

17 responses »

  1. I was very into dream analysis for awhile, until I found it sucking up all my daytime hours (by the time you create your own dream dictionary, map out the dream, break apart and reassemble the symbology you’re late for work).

    My thing with dreams is that while there are archetypes, they are guidelines, not universal symbols. Houses GENERALLY symbolize the self. But not always.

    When I dream of spiders, it’s a bad thing. When my husband dreams of spiders, it’s a sexy dream. Two different people, same symbol, two different reads.

    The same is true for Tarot reading, IMHO. If you’re looking for supernatural guidance from the celestial plane only, you’re missing the point, the fun and the purpose. As a story-building/mythmaking/creative tool, it is just as fun as dream analysis (and can suck up just as much time).

  2. Hi Keri! I’m so glad you stopped by.

    I took Arwen Lynch’s tarot class recently. I went into it with no previous knowledge, except that I have a really cool art nouveau tarot deck. I have some insights into tarot now, but if I ever have time, I’d like to learn more about it.

  3. Hi Anya!! So glad to have you blogging! I do dream about houses too. I too love to dream of a smaller, cozier home. I dream of a log cabin in the woods where I romantically sit with my DH lovingly staring at me as I write that next big novel….

  4. A dear friend, who I’m sure I bored constantly with the retelling of my many dreams, once told me I had more dreams than Martin Luther King, but not as big or meaningful. *HUMPF* Of course she was right about the meaning, but they were, nevertheless, so vivid they ruled my world. I would dream I was a MASH unit nurse of all things. This dream recurred quite a bit–yes for all the obvious reasons– that I seriously thought I should look into being an Army nurse. Well, that same friend talked me out of it knowing my penchant for men in uniform and the rest is history.

    Every once in a while, I’ll dream about a friend and it’s so compelling I’ll have to call or cyber chat, just to check up on them. And then there’s the woo-woo element I can never ignore nurtured by old Italian superstitions. My mother cautioned me if I dreamt of cuddly little babies or sweet fluffy bunnies it meant bad luck. Um…yeah.

    Anyway, I think dreams are what make life or sleeping more interesting. Do they have meaning? Should they be interpreted to guide your every move? I don’t know, but look what a dream did for Stephanie Meyer.

  5. Gabriella – I’m still snorting at the MLK comment! I wonder if people who are bilingual dream in different languages? And if you have split personalities, which ones would star in the dreams?

    Some of the most annoying dreams I have are that I’m-running-late-and-I’m-going-to-miss-the-plane sort of dream. I’m pretty sure that’s a sign of stress — no surprise there.

  6. I dream often and sometimes three or four different dreams in one night. I don’t always remember the details, but instead am left with a vague overall idea of what it was about, and then other times I can recall every detail.

    I also have quite a few reoccurring dreams. One in particular is about a relationship that never had closure. But most of my dreams are good, fun and in color.

    There are times when I’m going through my day and something will happen or someone will say something that triggers memories of a dream I’d had the night before, but hadn’t remembered having until that moment.

    Great blog, Anya. I love talking about dreams and am looking forward to Gabriellla’s guest blog. When can we expect to see that?

  7. Thanks for commenting, Tina! Yes, I’ve invited Gabriella Edwards to write a guest post to tell us what it’s like when you get THE CALL! I won’t give any more away — I’ll let her tell us about it. I’m not sure exactly what day her post will go up, but it will be soon! Thanks for asking!

  8. Yeah, I was an exchange student my junior year in HS, and I lived in a very rural area where people were kind enough NEVER to speak English with me (except for the 7th grade boys. They serenaded me with “Let It Be” one day in their lovely schoolbook British accents. You’ll appreciate that, I think, Anya!)

  9. I have a recurrent nightmare about spamming a list (which does not exist in real life). I’m on a website, a bit like the MySpace “Bulletins You Have Posted” page, and there are red flags all over the place, and still I clatter out another bulletin about “Insufficient Mating Material”

    Nightmares really handicap me!
    I used to dream about needing to pee, but every toilet I found looked like something else (like an armchair), or was out of order, or leaked.

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