On Chasing Dreams...
Last night, I had an incredible dream. In it, I felt safe... comforted... at peace... special... and most importantly, loved.
(And for Pete's sake, get your minds out of the gutter. It wasn't one of those. Can we move on now? Thanks.)
As they are wont to do, my alarm woke me at the best part of the dream. So, I hit snooze and rolled over. I was desperate to find my way back to that place where I had all those things I feel I lack in my waking world. It worked. I fell asleep again and quickly resumed the dream at almost exactly the spot where I had left it.
I replayed that little scene over the course of several hours. Alarm. Snooze. Dreaming. All to escape the bright, cold, lonely reality of my bedroom. I just had to return to that safe, warm, loving place for a little longer. Eventually, I turned off the alarm. I hated it for coming between me and the world I wanted. I returned to the dreaming intent on staying for as long as I could.
However, this time, the dreaming was different. The people in it slowly turned from caring to caustic. What was once love had turned to scorn. I was confused and terrified in this new dream. Why had they turned on me? Why did these same people, who had loved me just moments before, now hate and mock me?
I awoke in my bedroom. I was still cold and alone, but now I was depressed as well. What had gone wrong? What had happened to destroy the fantasy?
Lying there in the harsh light of reality, I had a thought. We all have dreams we chase. But some dreams, like those we have every night, are nice, but ultimately unattainable, fantasies. They are great places to visit, and they can even give us respite in troubled times. But while the people and places in my dream were from my reality, that would never be the reality of them. Not understanding that, I chased the dream. I tried to force it to become my reality. The dream responded to my hubris by showing me my actual reality.
We have to know which dreams we can chase and which should be left to those fantasies that soothe us during slumber. Otherwise, the harsh light of day will always find us back in our bedrooms... depressed and alone.
Forgive me, Morpheus.
(And for Pete's sake, get your minds out of the gutter. It wasn't one of those. Can we move on now? Thanks.)
As they are wont to do, my alarm woke me at the best part of the dream. So, I hit snooze and rolled over. I was desperate to find my way back to that place where I had all those things I feel I lack in my waking world. It worked. I fell asleep again and quickly resumed the dream at almost exactly the spot where I had left it.
I replayed that little scene over the course of several hours. Alarm. Snooze. Dreaming. All to escape the bright, cold, lonely reality of my bedroom. I just had to return to that safe, warm, loving place for a little longer. Eventually, I turned off the alarm. I hated it for coming between me and the world I wanted. I returned to the dreaming intent on staying for as long as I could.
However, this time, the dreaming was different. The people in it slowly turned from caring to caustic. What was once love had turned to scorn. I was confused and terrified in this new dream. Why had they turned on me? Why did these same people, who had loved me just moments before, now hate and mock me?
I awoke in my bedroom. I was still cold and alone, but now I was depressed as well. What had gone wrong? What had happened to destroy the fantasy?
Lying there in the harsh light of reality, I had a thought. We all have dreams we chase. But some dreams, like those we have every night, are nice, but ultimately unattainable, fantasies. They are great places to visit, and they can even give us respite in troubled times. But while the people and places in my dream were from my reality, that would never be the reality of them. Not understanding that, I chased the dream. I tried to force it to become my reality. The dream responded to my hubris by showing me my actual reality.
We have to know which dreams we can chase and which should be left to those fantasies that soothe us during slumber. Otherwise, the harsh light of day will always find us back in our bedrooms... depressed and alone.
Forgive me, Morpheus.