I had a never-ending dream last night. It seemed to start just before I fell asleep and ended when I woke up scarce hours later. Not a flying dream, but a purpose dream. Bounds of significance, leaping through the air, devoid of anything resembling joy, moving towards an objective. Towards… Towards a goal: a golden egg, a place of comfort, a solid foundation. With every leap came a fear of where to land next, vast swaths of night below. It was a terrifying dream, one that woke me suddenly and fully.
I’ve never done any real reading on the meaning of dreams. If I were to interpret it, I’d say I’m spending too much time focusing on the next goal and not on the experience of getting there. Too busy worrying about landing safely than enjoying the flight through the air. Not stopping to smell the proverbial roses.
Another interpretation could be a combination of factors from my day. Exercise, caffeine, and a late morning coupled with an early night, all combining together with recent amassed game playing that heavily made use of flying through the air. The dream could’ve been chemicals from the exercise, a light sleep pattern, and my mind assembling images and moments from my games into a cohesive combination of factors to make a strange and disturbing recollection of events.
A third interpretation could be that it’s really just a combination of the first two interpretations and some oddities that make up me. That all these different aspects that make up me joined forces and made a weird dream. A dream that seemed to last forever, from the time I went to sleep to the time I woke.
No matter what the interpretation, I forgot most of the dream upon waking. I don’t intend to recreate the experience. I’d rather just let the dream die away and get back to the business at hand. Our minds don’t always do what we want them to. Dreams like this illustrate the lack of control we really have over our minds.