Dreams of Fascination

Cloudy Sky
Originally uploaded by Trisha Conley

“A proper knowledge of life is a key to explain the phenomena of fascination.”

We’ve all thought about the subject of dreams and wondered how come when our heads hit the pillow and we slip into unconsciousness, the picture theatre show starts rolling, the one we’re writing, producing, directing and staring in. Often, like a forgettable movie, we wake up and have no recollection of having seen the show, while on other nights we can be jolted straight out of bed, with perspiration dripping down our face from a nightmare that we’ve been falling off a 100 story building, yet in the morning we can’t remember what startled us, and other times we wake up calmly and immediately remember the entire show vividly.
Dreams are rather interesting because we can’t see pictures this way when we are awake, the only pictures that fill the scene are the ones we take walking around, looking through our eyes. But, when we close our eyes, it’s as if new methods of seeing come into view. Are the images different or the same? Is it imagination or reality? We are exposed to all our senses when we are awake, like today when I woke up and made my morning cup of Joe, I can smell the brewing beans and it sets off ‘pleasure’ sensation inside my body and the sound of the coffee pot percolating, fires up the anticipation to hear the “beep”, which tells me its ready and when the cup finally hits my lips, I can feel the warmth as it travels down my throat and lands in my tummy. Now, if I were dreaming all this, I don’t have all those other senses, or do I?
I don’t dream that often, but if I do, I seldom remember them in the morning, however, the last couple of weeks I’ve been having a reoccurring dream. I don’t ‘feel’ anything physical from my dream, it is only pictures, but because it has occurred several nights in a row, I decided to have a look on the Internet and see if my reoccurring dream has any kind of meaning, other than my own interpretation. I am unsure if I believe in all this dream interpretation stuff, but I am open to question it. Some things are meant to be kept private, so I won’t divulge all the details, just bits and pieces. Scenes from my dream contain; my bed, hands, wetness, eyes, and love. Now I know that sounds very erotic, but I assure you it is not. The following is the Internet’s interpretation of my homemade movie and maybe the plot will thicken.
“To dream that you are in the bedroom signifies aspects of yourself that you keep private. It also represents feelings regarding your intimate relationships. When the main feature of your dream was the beauty of the eyes, the meaning is that you can count on the sincere love of those who matter to you. Hands represent your relationship to those around you and how you connect with the world. Hands serve as a form of communication. Perhaps you need to extend a helping hand to someone. In particular, the left hand symbolizes your graciousness and feminine, receptive qualities. The right hand symbolizes masculine, active attributes. A dream of love suggests intense feelings carried over from a waking relationship. It implies happiness and contentment with what you have and where you are in life. To dream you are wet signifies spirituality.”
Fascinating…..but what does it mean? If my dream hadn’t been a dream and I had actually experienced it in the physical world, it wouldn’t mean anything, other than an experience I just had, but because it’s a dream, this movie – should it have greater meaning and deeper significance?
For some reason, I am reminded of a French movie I once saw, called A Pure Formality, written and directed by Roman Polanski, most of the movie is filmed in one room and Gerard Depardieu, is being held in a police station being interrogated about a murder, it’s a very clever plot because he doesn’t realize that he’s about to confess his own murder, his suicide, and recall all the events that lead up to it. However, once freed from his shame and guilt and the realization that he’s dead and killed himself, the only thing he wants to take with him into the afterlife, are his photographs, his pictures, his memories.
At the end of my life, when I’m a 102, that’s all I want to take with me, my roll of film engrained with every picture I ever took throughout my life – all the beauty I’ve seen through my eyes and dreams, no matter what they mean.