The Internet doesn't like me. For several days I was unable to post comments to any blogs. I can't figure out why my photos from my phone aren't showing up on my computer. But, in spite of these technical difficulties, I've had several visitors stopping by the blog each day. (Yay!) The bad news is, many of them are from places such as Spain or France. One person left a lengthy comment... in Chinese. Oh, well. You win some, you lose some. At least I can comment again.
Do you remember your dreams? I've heard that if you wake up right after a dream, it'll stick in your conscious memory for a while. In my experience, it's the emotions that stick hardest. There have been a few dreams that stayed in my mind for a long time.
When I was in seventh grade, Mrs. Cox taught a unit on short-story writing. I think the weekly assignment was something ridiculously short, like 100 words, but we had to come up with something original every Friday. One time, I wrote what I recalled of a vivid dream. I was at home, going between my bedroom and our back yard, and other people were there to wish me well. I was preparing for a secret mission (spying or smuggling) and wasn't certain I'd make it back in one piece. The emotions in the dream were very strong, and it made for a good story except for one little thing. I couldn't write an ending. The dream ended before I left home, and nothing I could imagine matched the anxious drama of my virtual experience.
Just this week, I had another momentous dream. In real life, there's a person who has caused tremendous grief to a family member. Unfortunately, there isn't anything that can be done to resolve the situation at this time. But this dream... ugh! For some reason, my whole family had to go to that person's home and share a meal with them. I was on edge from the moment we set foot in her house. But then, as I finished my lunch, I saw my hand reach down to a ceramic vase at my side. I used a spoon to gouge a hole in the vase! What a horrible thing to do, and I was unable to stop my destructive action. How could we repair it, or where would we find a replacement?
I woke up in a sweat, scared and tremendously upset. What kind of an awful thing had I done, and why? This is the kind of emotional upheaval that could have kept me awake the rest of the night, but I'm happy to report that I was able to deal with it somewhat logically. In reality, I know that I did nothing to cause this person's bad behavior toward my family member. I cannot cure her, nor can I exert any control over her. Beyond all this, I have not done anything to contribute to the pain. Thank goodness!
A clean conscience makes for a good night's sleep, eventually.