Monday, July 13, 2015

As a Child I Had Dreams

I remember my first memorable dream.  It involved clowns, and it was a nightmare.  But after that I the dreams I remember began to teach me what I could never have learned in the short few years I had been alive.  I remember being a warrior, in the time of the golden age of Greece, when the Persians invaded, and all of the Greeks bonded together.  True, I didn't know the backstory, or any of what I just said, perhaps I'd seen a comic, an advertisement for Spartacus or the 1962 movie The 300 Spartans, I don't know.  But I do know that from a very early age, I dreamed in color, and my dreams were mythic, epic, and glorious.

I wasn't always in combat in my dreams.  I didn't always play the role of a great warrior.  I remember being a slave in the galleys, rowing and rowing.  I would suggest that is likely a memory from Ben Hur, but wherever it came from, I was alive in the past.  I didn't want green army men for my toys, although, I liked them, and played with them, I had them already.  I wanted Roman legions, Greek hoplites, and their enemies.

I remember too a very vivid dream that for a 9 year old was extremely interesting.  I am unsure the source of it, as far as, how I collected the information I used in it.  I am certain it wasn't my "brilliant" mind, as a child, despite my IQ a number adults, my father included, thought I was rather slow.  I really wasn't, what I was was an introvert (MBTI: INFJ) who didn't fit in the world where I'd been placed.  Sorry, that was a tangent.  I dreamt that I was at the head of a unit of Roman legionnaires and we had ended up upon an alien planet.  It could support human life, but it was curiously absent of any life other than us, that we knew of.  So we built a new Rome, and it was spectacular.  But the summer storm that hit kept me from learning what happened to it.  I guess that is why I am a writer, to find the ending inside me.

I do believe that we dream from the start as children, then teens, into our later years.  I've seen my baby boy (now 16) asleep on my chest, deeply in R.E.M. cycle, and he would break into chuckles at the dreams he was having.  It was completely adorable, and also, it reminded me of my trips to the dream lands.  However, as I noted, my first trip DID have clowns, and it was memorable enough that I still have fear left over.

I refuse to complain, though.  Dream land is a place I want to visit, and when I am depressed or filled with sorrow, it is my sole refuge from the pain of life.  I cannot visit it often enough when I am in pain and grieving.  So, I just have to accept that it isn't always easy to find, and I might be able or might not be able to go there. 

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