Dreams

If there were some way to record the litany of my dreams and turn them into written word, they would make both terrifying and exciting books.

Some nights, I have these amazing travel dreams that leave me faintly believing that I have enjoyed the adventures that I have only been able to dream of in my life. I confess that I have always harbored a jealousy for people who travel. They trot the globe, yet there are some who don't seem to be able to truly enjoy the experiences they have been given. It's as if they are so jaded by their international experiences that nothing is able to reach them anymore. They feel they have 'seen it all'.

In my dreams, I am able to go to the places that are remote and spend time getting to know and understand the customs, culture and practices of the regular people who are off the beaten path of tourism. The people who live quiet lives of day to day struggle are the most interesting anyway because they don't depend upon tourism to fill their pockets. While I want to know about the tourist type visit, I don't want to confine myself by believing that a bus trip through Amsterdam gives me any understanding whatsoever of what it means to be a resident.

Also, I have no desire to make the youthful error of believing that shouting English imparts understanding. I'd like to hire local people to take me places and pay them to translate for me and help me learn the words of their language. I want to shop where they shop and eat what they eat, within reason, and work my way around the globe from place to place meeting the brothers and sisters whom I forgot I know.

Then, there are other dreams. They are not pleasant. They are the fears of life combined with the horrors of our reality in a world where power and money mean more than peace and goodwill.

I run from danger or battle it with superior skills. I hide in corners protecting the helpless with my own body or I stand boldly before the barrels of their guns. My dreams show the horrors I have never experienced in a way that leaves me breathless and frightened. Sometimes, I have awakened in tears screaming for help that will never come.

The intensity of these dreams is such that they don't fade easily and like the knife wound in the flesh, they can leave a scar, albeit emotionally.

I have dreamed of doing things that I hope I will never even attempt. I have awakened from dreams in a cold sweat gasping for air. On ocassion, I have had dreams that I can't fully remember, but which leave me with unease and fear so great that only prayer and priesthood blessings can abolish the pain.

What I haven't yet figured out is where the rich fodder for all of the dreams, for good or ill, comes from in my though processes. Or if thinking is even part of the process.

Sometimes, things I have read in the newspaper or seen online or on TV feature prominently in my dreams unbidden.

Rare are the times when I dream and DON'T remember them. Generally, I have more than one dream a night and they are usually different in context, events and feeling.

Is this nocturnal ADD-ADHD?

There may not be an answer to that question.

All that I am sure of is that every night will be another showing on the movie screen in my head. The only problem is that I buy a ticket but never get to see the preview of any coming attractions to know what to watch and what I might be able to avoid.

Sweet dreams...