Falling Short, Living Long

Sat, 05/04/2024 - 12:36

My dream life is usually pretty ordinary. It’s in primary colors with broad messages. Sometimes I think I fall short in this area because there doesn’t seem to be much complexity. My subconscious likes to use direct messages. Occasionally I have important dreams that require some careful picking through to get to the meaning, so it’s not always true that I ‘fall short’. But I do imagine other people’s dreams are bigger, more important, more meaningful than the simple ones I have.

When I was in therapy some years ago, my therapist loved to hear my dreams. She had a quiet way of nodding and smiling as I unfolded them as carefully as I could, which always made me feel as if I were a child showing her a rudimentary drawing. She didn’t demean them—not at all—I was the one who did that. But she always seemed amazed that they were so obvious, so pointed in their message. I think I was hoping for something like the dreams Gregory Peck revealed to Ingrid Bergman in the wonderful movie SPELLBOUND. Something that would unlock whatever was being repressed and so set me free of the things that brought me to therapy. Where was my big revelation? And is it only in the movies that this happens? Where was that “small wheel” that represented a revolver?

However, a few nights ago I had a wonderful, freeing dream. I’ve been struggling with the aches and pains of growing old, with hip pain, knee pain, and foot pain. Arthritis, yes, and the breaking down of protective collagen, the things that inevitably happen if you live long enough. In this recent dream I was in a campground in a forest, and I left the people I was with and started walking. I walked for a long time before I realized I had no pain, that I was walking as I used to walk. There was no fear of falling or running out of breath. I was taking long, deep breaths of the fresh forest air. It was like taking a drink of water when you have been very thirsty. I don’t remember ever having the experience of fragrance before in a dream, but I was breathing in all the scents that perfume a forest.

When I woke I felt refreshed, renewed. I had received a lovely gift. I didn’t care whether there was any deep meaning or special significance in it. I simply enjoyed it. I have savored it every day since then. I am grateful. Living long comes with some surprising rewards.

Sweet dreams, dear reader.