I have the entire list of daily challenges printed out, and I’ve been looking ahead so that nothing ever sneaks up and surprises me (if you know me, you’re nodding your head at this desire to be prepared). By Day 10 or so, the idea of having to describe a dream was starting to worry me. I dream often and vividly (and in color, in case you were wondering), but once I wake up and the world crashes in, I have a hard time remembering most of my dreams. Usually what lingers is an emotional impression: a sense of well-being or good humor or distress. Is this what it’s like for you?
Occasionally, I’ll have a revelatory experience: a scene so powerful that it imbeds itself in my memory and in the half-waking state after the alarm goes off, I find myself exploring it again. These scenes go on to become stories. I have at least three book ideas I can think of that began this way.
On to the blog at hand. A recent dream.
Like I said, I had been thinking about this dream assignment and didn’t want to get to the 25th day with nothing to report. So on some level, I wanted to remember a dream. On the night of the 15th, I had a wonderful dream that, in the manner of dreams, makes absolutely no sense now, but at the time was perfectly logical.
I was working for some company — or maybe I was a spy (I’ve been watching MI-5 while I work out) — where the job involved dressing up and deception. We were in a large, old building rather like an medieval castle with stone walls and sweeping staircases and high, echoing chambers with arches and galleries. Upstairs, I wore regular modern clothes and got my assignment, and downstairs there was a ball going on. Everyone was dressed in medieval-style dress (not your Disney princess idea of medieval dress; no hoop skirts or tight corsets; more Eleanor of Aquitaine and 12th century). I went down the stairs and joined in the dancing, which apparently in my dreams I do really well. I have no idea what the spy/investigation job was or what dancing in medieval gowns could possibly have had to do with it but it certainly was fun. Then at some point I knew I had to stop someone from doing something, or “create a diversion” as they do in all those shows, so I pretended to stumble (because unlike in real life, in this dream I was very graceful and the stumbling could only have been on purpose) and collided with someone and we sort of fell into one of those giant stone pillars that was holding up the ceiling…
And then the dream skipped like an old vinyl record and went back to the part where I was coming down the stairs, and then I started dancing again. The non-dreaming part of my brain, the part that stays aloof while your subconscious is generating this nightly movie for entertainment and edification, then made an observation along the lines of, “Hey, this is fun. We’ll do the dancing thing again, and then we’ll have to remember this for the blog.”
This happens to you too, right? Your brain talks to you at night? Right?