I’ve
devoted several blogs to dreams, and how much I enjoy them. I
particularly like story dreams, or musical dreams, or flying dreams,
or those which seem terribly profound at the moment. Well, last night
I dreamed of toasters. All night. Nothing else. Just toasters. Waking
up for a bathroom break, or a loud noise outside didn’t interfere.
The minute I went back to sleep, it was back to the toasters.
I
can’t even say I spent most of the time contemplating the history
and cultural impact of toasters. I didn’t. Just the two basic types
of household toaster with which I am familiar: the old-fashioned kind
where the side flipped down to allow you to put the bread in (and
which only toasted one side at a time), and today’s slot-type. I’ve
not seen a fold-down toaster in many, many years, so perhaps, in
reflection, it might all have represented some deeply subliminal
longing for the past, in which my mind spends so much of its time.
Possible, but I think it was just about toasters.
There
was a building in there at one point…a huge, solid, windowless
circular building like one of those gigantic gas storage tanks, with
a wide and ornate band of decoration (Corinthian column caps and
elaborate bas-relief scroll-work of some sort) at the top, painted
bright purple and green and silver. (I am nothing if not stylish,
even in sleep.) What it had to do with toasters or anything I of
course haven’t a clue, but it was there, so assume it had its own
reasons for being there. That I have/had no idea of what that reason
may be is irrelevant.
Other
than that, there was no story, no plot, no people, no music, no sound
at all. No particular emotions…frustration, boredom…associated
with them. Just toasters.
I
have friends who claim they never dream, which of course is
impossible, and friends who claim they never remember their dreams. I
feel rather sorry for them. Dreams are among the greatest of
mankind’s gifts, and reflecting on them and their meaning is a form
of active relaxation I truly enjoy. And reflection on dreams is
perhaps more important to and common with me than with others given
my already tenuous relationship with reality in any form.
Dreams
are a form of game the mind plays with itself, made the more
interesting by the fact that the game has no rules.
Of
all the things I do not understand—and the list is endless—how
and why the mind works the way it does is pretty high up on the
ladder. And to consider that there are seven billion or so people on
earth (Go, Breeders!!), each one assumedly with his or her own
dreams, remembered or not, gives depth to the phrase “mind
boggling.” But again, it’s fun to speculate on.
And
now it’s time for breakfast. Not sure what I’ll have. Toast
sounds good.
Dorien's
blogs are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and
Friday. Please take a moment to visit his website
(http://www.doriengrey.com)
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1 comment:
I do wonder what it was your mind was trying to entertain you with.
My college freshman English instructor had us keep a dream journal. And since I've always had very vivid dreams, it was great fun to keep.
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