A Dream Deferred

 

Do you dream at all? What do they mean? Are you broken if you don't dream at all? Lets explore - with me as an experiment. 

"What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore—And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over—like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or does it explode?" - Langston Hughes

 

How many of us dream? 

Like, really dream? 

Are you able to vividly remember everything that happens in them? Or, are they fragmented, blurry even? How frequently do you get to dream? 

These are questions that a select few of us may be taking time to ask. For me, that day is today as I do my next two loads of laundry. 

We're all told to dream BIG. 

We're told that we all dream when we rest. 

That we die in our sleep to rise again anew, as Mahatma Gandhi would elude to in his quote. 

But what about those of us that can't seem to dream? 

What about those of us that can't seem to remember if and when we dream, or what stands out if at all? 

Truth is, I find myself in that mysterious middle ground.

 

I'm not your Average Dreamer

I've known people that have told me about the vivid dreams they've had, and it's interesting to decode what they mean. It's a thrill to help my friends pull through the cobwebs of  'what the hell did I just witness?' At the same time, I question why I just don't dream like that. 

I believe that as we dream, we're getting signs and guidance from our subconscious mind; the gateway to our own divinity deep within each of us. If we're able to take note on what we sense within those dreams, we'll be able to get some valuable insight... 

So why haven't I been able to dream much if at all? 

 

What Stops Dreams 

There's a number of reasons why we can't or don't have dreams. There's everything from spiritual blockages to just being unable to get into a deep enough sleep to tap in. 

I think for me it's the latter. 

When I'm aware enough to sense something, it doesn't feel like it's a dream, but rather my mind fixed on something...pacing on a treadmill that never ends, on legs that never take a break. 

I'm in my head so much throughout the day that it's become my second nature, almost primary. It's to the point where I'll wake up to my alarm anxious (part of that was the tune I used, so I changed to something more subtle). It's money, work, and what I need to create or revise today, and the anticipation builds in my chest and my upper back like I'm on a ruck march. Happens so fast, and all I do is stand still and visualize the worst case scenarios and what happened yesterday. 

So many of us are wired that way, and it leads to complications with all forms of our health: High blood pressure, hypertension, stroke, and if we're not careful... Death. 

For me, it's the inability to let the happenings of the day go. Maybe there's more I can do aside from journaling my thoughts... It helps, but is it enough to help me slip into the wave of the subconscious; the uncharted unknown that doesn't terrify me like the regular unknown does? 

The way I picture it, my mind is a Safari. I'm thirsty having traveled it's terrain for over four decades, I'm hacking away at vines with the same machete I've had since I started and encountered a lot of winding roads and paths, a lot of boulders and met some pretty interesting NPCs along the way for my side quests (if you know, you know). 

The more I cut down, the more dust that looms in the air. The more dust, the more plants that creep up when I approach the horizon. 

However, despite the fog there's a beacon of sorts that drives me forward. That inner knowing that something important to me lingers, and all isn't lost. 

 I am not lost. 

In fact, on two occasions I've had some profound dreams that may very well be part of a long story written over the years, and perhaps there is one more part still left to be written. 

 The First Rare Gem

This first one hit me when I was in my late teens, maybe early twenties. I remember I was at my mom's place when it happened. 

All was dark in the dream. But there was a long walkway. As I stepped, the sounds echoed for several feet. There were very dim lights overhead. The sounds of water dripping in the distance. The place smelled of oil and old soggy wood left abandoned by whoever once occupied the space. Something like the interior of the Kingsbridge Armory in the Bronx. 

As I walked to what looked like an opening... Wasn't. There was a ladder looming over a pit of sorts. The ladder didn't reach down into the pit, but there was a light above and a path on the other side of the pit. The only way forward was to reach for the ladder, but I had to jump to reach it. I was scared of course, but I walked backwards to get a decent running start. I ran and jumped, confident I would reach it... But I didn't... The ladder moved.. And the pit below became my home. 

I couldn't scream. The farther down I fell, the more terrifying it was. All the light disappeared.  

When would I hit the ground? What was down there? Was I doomed? 

Before I hit what I thought was the ground, I woke up in a sweat. 

Funny that I remember a dream that was a personal catastrophe. 

As I grew up, I realized what that dream meant. It was a reminder that no matter how much I prepared, I was supposed to take a fall that would scare the shit out of me. It was a reminder that sometimes, the fall has to happen so that we can climb again and prepare ourselves more for what lays ahead... To push past the fear of starting over again. 

The 'Fall' would happen to me in seven year increments, most notably my deployment to Iraq the first and second time, and losing my home to foreclosure along with everything else in 2018. 

A hard lesson to learn about my inner resilience and willingness to rebuild is my low key Uber skill that I'm still learning to harness. 

Funny thing, this fall I took, I finally know where it took me... Straight into my second dream I'd have later in life. 

 The Second Rare Gem

 I ended up in some kind of hidden space. A storm loomed overhead crackling in the distance as lightning struck the ground. The only way you could see anything was if you stepped (the ground would light up beneath you) and when lightning struck the ground and pulsed in the mysterious field. 

I didn't know where else to go, so I walked towards the storm. As I approached, the thunder claps got louder. The lightning strikes got more violent, striking the ground closer to where I was walking. 

There was a beam of light in the distance, constant and pulsing like a heartbeat. The closer I got to it, the more it beat fast. I dodged as much as I could, finding cover when the lightning got to close for comfort... Then I heard a voice I recognized... A child's voice embedded in the thunder. The tiny lisp eluded to big front teeth. The child asked who I was and demanded I stayed away... But I couldn't. I needed to know who it was. 

I pressed on. The rain pounding down now trying to force me to quit. The closer I got to the beacon of light, the more clear I heard the child. Then I noticed I, too, started to pulse light, a darker shade of blue light. Finally I reached the other beacon and I saw him... Knees to his chest. Hair in a very short afro. A Charlie brown looking shirt and tan corduroy pants. I was looking at myself as a child... My inner child. 

I closed the gap and the ground shook. Younger me got scared and begged me to get away, but I stuck it out. I was resilient, and our two fields became one. 

This calmed the storm. 

My inner child was still scared, wondering who I was and I told him. He still cried and asked me why I abandoned him... And that broke me. I did abandon myself... So many times to fit in... To conform... To be someone or something I wasn't. He wanted accountability, not excuses, and I sat by him and just apologized... And talked about everything I had learned and been through. 

The conversation lit up his eyes in amazement, which did something to me. It reminded me that there was still a life to life as myself. That what I loved as a kid was still in me and it was time to cut through everything and bring that to life before it's cut abruptly. 

This dream was a reminder of the journey to my true authentic self. Every lightning strike, the rain, the thunder, those were distractions, and every choice made to derail myself from the path towards who I am. It was all my doubts, fears, worries, the limiting beliefs from my environment, my family, and myself. I have to breach the barrier with my own beacon of light... Even if I don't quite know how. 

 So... We all do Dream

 Even tho I don't dream often, or pick up on things in my dream space a lot of the time, it doesn't mean that I'm broken, or disconnected from the subconscious. I may have impediments towards it but I am still able to get pivotal messages that remind me of the direction I need to go in my life. 

I do want to harness it, the ability to dream. Find better ways to recall and record what happened so I can take time to decode the messages within. 

So let this me a nudge... Just because you can't dream like everyone else isn't confirmation you're broken. You just haven't had the right dream to wake up to yet.