We are one, until we dream….
My youngest came to me early in the morning sobbing. I am usually the first to arise. He climbed up into my lap and through the gasps attempted to explain his terrible nightmare. In it, everyone had died, everyone but him. (Here I had to wait awhile before he was composed enough to continue.) He then in his dream had traveled back in time to find me. (Which I happened to think was super cool,but he sobbed even harder), so traveling back in time he found me, and i was younger. And because he had not been born yet, ……I didn’t know him. This horrified him worse, I think, than everyone dying.
We then of course talked about dreams, and that he was not alone. But that it was a dream, and not real. We talked about how some people find ways to awaken, and go back into their dreams and take control of them. (I continue to hope he may find this relief as I never did).
I suffered through the first half of my life with horrid nightmares. So graphic and real that sometimes I wondered if I was awake, when i believed I was awake. I remember once upon waking, finding my father and asking him how I could know if I was awake or asleep. He pinched my arm. I yelped “ouch!” . He said, well if you can feel that, you are awake. Then upon going to sleep that night, I remember dreaming that I wasn’t sure if I was awake or asleep again. Then I asked my father in my dream, and he pinched my arm again. I yelped “ouch” once again, only to awaken and realize that my concept of physical pain could not be a determining factor of realizing which was “real” and which was “dream”.
I ran into this quote yesterday and it gave me pause.
“All men whilst they are awake are in one common world: but each of them, when he is asleep, is in a world of his own.” ~ Plutarch