I’m someone who often has really bizarre dreams – the sort of dreams I wake up from and think “what the heck just happened in that dream?”
Some dreams are quite stressful, and I’ll wake feeling like I haven’t actually rested at all, but I can’t, for the life of me, remember what it was that made the dream so stressful.
I used to search up the meanings of the various things that popped up in my dreams, believing (or hoping) that it would reveal something of my subconscious; but I feel like the more I read these interpretations, the more I think it’s all just meaningless nonsense.
But that’s not to say that I’m not still interested in hearing about the bizarre dreams of other people. Someone once said (I can’t remember who, or if, indeed, I’m just making this up completely) that there are two kinds of people: those who love telling everyone about their dreams, and those who are bored senseless by other people telling them their dreams.
I find it fascinating hearing about the dreams that other people have and, even though I’ve practically given up analysing my own dreams, I will try to find meaning in the dreams of other people.
Generally I will not tell someone about a dream I’ve had unless they’re actually in the dream, or in some way involved with the content of it. And even then I might not disclose it if I know that the person in question has minimal interest in this sort of thing.
What’s funny, though, is that, as a kid, I used to believe that superstition about dreams not coming true if you tell anyone about it. This was probably told to me by people who were sick of hearing about my dreams. But then this would have encouraged me to keep telling them about bad dreams, so who knows…
In all my years, one of the few dreams I still remember quite clearly is one that I had many years ago when I was a young kid. Not much happened in this dream – I basically just went out to the back yard and found two absolutely gorgeous German Shepherd dogs there – but you should know that German Shepherds were, and still are, one of my most favourite dog breeds, and, growing up without pets, this dream felt pretty significant to five- or six-year-old me. For the longest time (or so it seemed to my younger self), I didn’t tell anyone about this dream that I so desperately wanted to come true.
Of course, I did eventually tell other people about the dream. I mean, even as a kid, I was a pretty rational and logical thinker – didn’t take me long at all to figure out the truth behind Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy (not that my parents tried very hard to convince me either way) – and I soon realised that this superstition was as unfounded as the rest of them.
The big question, though? No, I’m yet to own a German Shepherd; but I will not let the dissemination of this dream stop me from making it come true.