Dreams and Hope That Springs Eternal
I have always been blessed with nightimes full of lush rich dreams. For as long as I can remember I have had an imaginary world that I visit on many a night, a magnificent and magical place as familiar to me as my own home town, populated by friends from the real world as well as reoccuring characters I meet only at night. The colors in this world glisten, pop and shine. In fact the streets and storefronts often shimmer as though a rainstorm had just passed and the sun (or moon) is now breaking through. The narratives in these dreams are complex and long. While not always pleasant, and frequently trippy and surreal, my dreamworld is the place I go to listen to my heart and restore my soul.
But lately, my dreams have more resembled grainy, badly lit B-movies. I have dreamt in shades of gray and mud. The scenes are short and clipped--stark. The dialogue is bad. I have frequently awakened and wished not to dream again.
And this has made me sad. So very sad and desperate that this weekend I ordered Clarissa
Pinkola Estes'
audio CD called Bedtime Stories. The subtitle "a unique guided relaxation program for falling asleep and entering the world of dreams seemed like "just the ticket" and I figured it anyone's voice would carry me back to my beloved world, the lovely Pinkola Estes would.
It arrived on my doorstep last night and after I put Max to sleep I too climbed into bed and popped it in to my trusty CD player. To be honest I can't give a complete and honest review--I was asleep a good 35 minutes into it but I am certain that it is as precious as diamonds.
For last night for the first time in weeks, I had the most amazing technicolor dream. It went like this:
I am supposed to go out to dinner with a long-time crush--a once upon a time guy who always made my heart just go a pitter patter. Its not a date or anything but I want it to go well so he will notice me, think I am special. Unfortunately as I am getting ready everything starts to go wrong. The beautiful outfit that I put on is ruined. I must run back and change. Each time I dress myself in less chic and flattering clothes, each time they are ruined and I am forced to try and put something together. He arrives and we attempt (for what seems like painfully long hours) to get to dinner but we cannot get there. Extreme personally embarrasing incident after incident keeps us from getting to the perfect restaurant--the one that serves the food I know he will love. I am feeling frustrated and a failure. And then as I teeter on the verge of giving up and going home this long-time Crush reaches out and kisses me--passionately. The rest of the dream is for me alone...
I wish I could say that I woke up certain that my long-time crush would walk into my life and sweep me off my feet, but the reality is I did not. I know that my dreams are not premonitions or foretellings. They are not clarivoyant. The Medium I am not. No, my dreams at best are whispered messages from my inner soul to myself. And last night this is what she said:
No matter how much it all falls apart, you are wrapped in an intimate and passionate embrace, held gently by something greater. No matter what you do, what you look like, how you unravel and mess up, you are loved--deeply in the way you want to be loved.
This is the most hopeful dream I have had in a long time. I am going to go put that CD on again.
Blessings to you all this night.
And sweet, sweet dreams.
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