I have always been fascinated by dreams. In our waking lives, we are confined within our bodies and the structural limitations of reality. But in dreams, we live out our wildest imaginations that traverse through time and space, free from the limitations of our existence.
And though nearly all of us dream each night, not many of us remember them and there is so little we understand. As for me, I remember my dreams vividly and often reflect upon their significance and meaning. And one dream has stuck with me recently:
My mother, who past away last year, was standing in my kitchen. I have never been in this room before, but I knew it to be my kitchen. And my brother was seated at the table, although he was much younger than he is now.
As my mother stood their cooking, I realized I was in a dream. And I told her I loved her. She turned to me with a confused look, and I asked her:
“Is this a dream? Or has the last six months since you left been a dream?”
And she gave me a solemn but knowing look, and the dream slowly faded away ✨
Some people believe that dreams are formed by our subconscious to help us organize our thoughts and experiences, solve problems that trouble our waking minds, or are simply random moments of imagination that entertain us while we sleep. And this may be true.
But I often wonder whether dreams are something more.
A collective consciousness, perhaps, that each of us access when we sleep. A consciousness free from the limitations of reality that connect us in some form or fashion through time and space. Where anything is possible, and nothing is truly lost.
And in this way, we may cross paths with those we’ve met, those who have never existed, and those we’ve lost along the way. I’d like to think that’s true. It was nice to see my mother again. Even if -
Only in dreams ✨