Dreams have their own rules. My own dreams don't often deliver the "dream", the wish fulfilment. If ever. Usually they deliver warnings or riddles or enormous complicated buildings I have to wander through and explore.
Or, rarely, I have to try to evade nuclear holocausts and erupting volcanoes, or pack and be ready for planes or trains I'm almost too late to catch. Those are the nightmares of course.
Sometimes I dream a movie idea but honestly they're far too corny to take any notice of. Really, I don't dream art movies I dream B movies. It might be some kind of muse, and maybe I'm turning down a Hollywood career, but the bad plot is simply knocking at the wrong door.
Often it turns out my whole dream is delivering one giant bad pun. It's fun when I work it out.
Dreams are usually very easy for me to analyse and explain. For instance when I was supporting a dearest one through her final months of life, I had a recurring dream of trying to avoid a crashing plane as it hurtled out of the sky in flames towards me. I had to sidestep the disaster and not be destroyed by it but I had to watch it too.
I love it when I go to the dream house that I recognise from all the other times I have been there. It seems other people have those places too, that they recognise and revisit. Someone told me once that the sprawling mansion with all the rooms and doors and stairways is my own psyche. That made sense.
It seems I am allowed just one dream, when someone I love has died, in which they reappear as real as can be, and I can talk to them one last time. Just once. It's so good and I even smile when I wake up, for having had that gift.
The other night I had a dream that a loved one who cannot speak, spoke. I heard her voice as clear as day, and it couldn't have been more earth shattering than if God had spoken in my dream. Wow. I'm glad that dreams can still surprise me.
Another book I will (probably) never write
2 days ago