I can't remember ever having a nightmare. If I have them -
they never wake me up. I do on occasion have a dream that disturbs me and
causes me to wake up feeling somewhat disquieted, but nothing that ever causes
me to wake up wanting to scream. I never remember then for very long. I do
remember some of my other dreams which for the most part are quite glorious.
While it happens less and less often as I get older, for years I had a
continuing adventure movie screening itself in my sleeping brain. I looked forward
to each instalment and to being in an environment where it was fun and exciting.
I was eager to enter this special dream
world where there would be horseback riding, sword fights, canoe rides down
long and sometimes dangerous rivers, dreams in which no one ever got hurt and
where I could be the hero. I am sure Freud could written a new book with all of
that - but I don't care - it was fun.
However on the weekend I did have a rather disturbing dream
about travelling - something I never have. In my dream I was somewhere west of Winnipeg.
While I didn't quite recognize where I was, I knew that somehow I had gotten
off the Trans-Canada and was on a secondary highway. That in itself was a bit
weird as I generally am not very adventurous when travelling. I prefer to stay
on the main routes. It felt as if I were near the beginning of my trip as I had
not yet gotten out my signs for the drivers to see. I was on the side of the
road digging through my back, sorting through the signs looking the one that
says "Calgary" when I realized that the pack at my feet was not the
one that I have used for the last ten years. Instead it was sort of like the
small black canvas shoulder bag that I use when I walk to the library. At best
it can hold three or four books. I do travel with it but it at best is only a
day pack with room for some water, a camera, my tablet and if I think about it, my cell phone.
As I dug though the small bag I became alarmed as I realized
that much of the stuff that I think I need to travel with, was missing. As I
dug deeper into the bag, I started to feel this deep sense of panic. I could
not find anything. No extra clothes, no food, no bivy sack, nothing! I felt
more and more lost without my
possessions. The bag, while it did not contain much other than my sleeping bag
and my signs, did have some apparent magical aspects to it because seem to be
bottomless but that didn't matter. There was nothing else in it.
As soon as I woke up I knew that it had been only a silly
dream and that there was nothing to worry about. I knew exactly where my pack
was. I knew in which cupboard I had stored all of my camping and travelling
gear. I knew that I would never intentionally leave home without all of the things
that ensure that I have a good time and a safe time while traveling. I am far
too methodical of a planner for that.
While I am not all that interested in having my dreams analyzed - this one was weirder than most. I can't remember the last time the remembrance
of a dream ( and the feelings it germinated) stayed with me for days. I can't
remember ever having, after two or three days that sense of dis-quietness (yes
I know that that is not a word) sticking with me.
Strange............... I wonder what it means.
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