10. On Dreams

Inspired by a friend.

A few nights ago, I dreamed it was time to leave for Urbana. A group of us were standing at a transit station, when one of our group members realized she had forgotten something. Since we had to wait for her, I asked to go back to grab something from my apartment as well. As I biked (I don't have a bike in real life) back to my apartment building (I live in a condo in real life), I realized I had forgotten to pack my winter jacket. Like, the thick snowboarding one I bought specifically for Urbana three years ago. And when I got into my apartment, I also discovered I hadn't even packed my standard cold-weather coat. In my dream I felt the sense of urgency from delaying our traveling team, the shame of being ill-prepared and forgetful, and the pressure of needing to run through a packing list again because clearly, I had missed a number of things the first time around.

I remember my dreams maybe once a week or so, and more often than not, they are close enough to normal that I dismiss them. The ones that remain in my memory fall into the categories of the strange, the good, or the uncomfortable. The latter category leaves me shaken up when I awake, wondering where the dream came from, particularly if all are dreams have roots or traces of our reality or subconscious. These are dreams of things that are shameful or wrong, like the wrong person putting his arms around me and saying it's okay when I know it's not. The strange dreams tend to be just the wrong people in the wrong places doing something random, and I usually don't remember them till halfway through the following day when something triggers my memory. Like when my friend's wife Jenn was giving my former roommate Della and I marriage advice--Huh? The three of us have never talked about relationships together. My interest is piqued and I'm amused, but that's about it.

Then there are the good dreams, of which I don't have many and with specifics I can't recall. But the traces I remember include the streets of Malaysia and celebrations with friends. I think that's most of it.

My brother Anthony always, always dreams about being a superhero and fighting bad guys. If you know him, you're not surprised. An X-Men fanatic, he reads comic books, draws the characters, excitedly explains superpowers and their consequences. His background in martial arts and the numerous fight scenes he's replayed over and over again makes combat in his dreams really not hard to believe. It took me awhile to realize that the consistency of these dreams is pretty abnormal, and now I smile to think of it.

On an amusing note, in the numerous times I've shared a room or slept over with my best friend, she has stories of me talking about to-do lists or using my planning voice in my sleep. That makes sense. But what of these other dreams? More often than not, the dreams I recall leave me in discomfort or insecure, off-kilter at best. If anything, I suppose in my sleep, the rest that happens ends up unwinding things that maybe? I should pay attention to. Like my just-kidding-but-no-seriously fears of being late, unprepared, or unqualified for Urbana.