Cheerful Thoughts on a Saturday Night...
So, I'm not generally one for dreams. Logically, I understand that I'm probably having them, just because that's what they say, but I almost never remember any of them, so in all practical ways, for the most part, I just don't dream at night. (During the day is another matter, and a subject for another entry. Or not.)
However, for a run of three or four nights, just as I'm drifting off to sleep, thinking my thoughts, I've slipped into the same dream, in which there is a small crowd of my dead ancestors, beckoning me to join them in a sunny, grassy field. It started with my Grandmother (maternal, my paternal grandmother went to no sunny, grassy field, I'm fairly certain (assuming there is a place to go in the first place - which I don't even believe)), then another night it was focused on my uncle.
In typical dream fashion, neither of them really looked like themselves, and as such I'm not terribly surprised that I didn't recognize any of the rest, but I knew who they were, nevertheless.
While nice and peaceful in the images itself, the implication is bordering on disturbing. Neigh terrifying, really. Not that I have a real issue with dying, I'm just in a place right now where I'm not quite ready for it.
It's quite enough to make one never want to sleep.
Ever again.
Last night broke the pattern, and I'm hoping it remains so. But breaking the pattern may have had more to do with staying up until exhaustion claimed me more than anything else. A condition I can (and will) repeat tonight. Work nights are another matter altogether, as I can't really afford to stay up until I succumb to the need for sleep.
(Originally, I wasn't going to share this in my journal, but then I did, all of a sudden.)
However, for a run of three or four nights, just as I'm drifting off to sleep, thinking my thoughts, I've slipped into the same dream, in which there is a small crowd of my dead ancestors, beckoning me to join them in a sunny, grassy field. It started with my Grandmother (maternal, my paternal grandmother went to no sunny, grassy field, I'm fairly certain (assuming there is a place to go in the first place - which I don't even believe)), then another night it was focused on my uncle.
In typical dream fashion, neither of them really looked like themselves, and as such I'm not terribly surprised that I didn't recognize any of the rest, but I knew who they were, nevertheless.
While nice and peaceful in the images itself, the implication is bordering on disturbing. Neigh terrifying, really. Not that I have a real issue with dying, I'm just in a place right now where I'm not quite ready for it.
It's quite enough to make one never want to sleep.
Ever again.
Last night broke the pattern, and I'm hoping it remains so. But breaking the pattern may have had more to do with staying up until exhaustion claimed me more than anything else. A condition I can (and will) repeat tonight. Work nights are another matter altogether, as I can't really afford to stay up until I succumb to the need for sleep.
(Originally, I wasn't going to share this in my journal, but then I did, all of a sudden.)