Living My Dreams

Published on Gather, March 24, 2008 11:33 AM EDT

I am a dreamer in every sense of the word. I dream when asleep and when awake, literally and metaphorically. I observe some dreams, experience others, and occasionally receive messages through dreams.

Everything is possible for the metaphorical dreamer. I know I can do it, you can do it, and the world can be it. Cynicism will not embarrass, discourage, or stop me, because I know all things are possible and I will not give up. Playing a role in helping you realize your dreams excites me as much as my own accomplishments please me, sometimes more since I take pleasure in watching you enjoy your success. (If you don't want me to push you, it's probably best not to let me know your dreams.)

I was the strange child who looked forward to nap and bed times, and welcomed heads-down breaks in school because they gave me a chance to dream. Daydreams made my walks and drives to and from school and work bearable, often entertaining. I solved world problems, married a few movie stars, tried on new professions, and imagined many what-ifs. I am the even stranger mother and grandmother now that I insist everyone announce the wish aloud before blowing out the candles, because others will help your dreams come true if you let them know what you want.

My sleeping dreams are colorful, vivid, and detailed. Most of my dreams are pleasant; sleeping is like watching a movie. I've had nightmares and recurring dreams, with obvious (maybe not immediately) lessons. Most memorable is the recurring scenes in which I was unable to remove an article of clothing or, if I did get it off, it was covering another just like it. That dream arrived with my realization that most of what people had taught me about religion was a burden, not a truth. When I relieved myself of guilt by clearing up the messages that I had repeated to others, I was able to remove the clothing and the dreams stopped.

My dreams often remain in my subconscious upon waking, but I always have the ability to call them forward if I want. I can return to a dream if something wakes me before I am ready to give it up and, at times, I have kept a dream going for weeks, picking up where I left off as soon as my head hit the pillow the next time. I think those might have been my early writing exercises since I stopped continuing dreams when I started writing.

More significant than visual acuity is the remarkable clarity of emotions that accompany my sleeping visions. At times, those emotions linger after I wake and change my life. The same way the emotional impact of giving birth or losing someone I love alters my being, emotions generated while sleeping remain with me. For me, the origin of those emotions matters more than trying to assign meaning in the physical symbols of my dreams.

Dreams - sleeping, waking, good, bad, literal, and figurative - are an important part of my life. People shake their heads and call me a dreamer, using the same insulting tone others use to call me a liberal. I pity them for not having dreams.