Living the Dream?

Dreams.  We all have them.  Or at least experts tell us we do, even when we don’t remember them.  I’m not speaking of those grand aspirations or lofty ambitions that help guide us through the maze of goals and hard work, hoping that one day, we can make them a reality.  Those we understand.  They point us toward what we hope will make our lives better or at least make us a better version of ourselves.  And I’m also not talking about daydreams where we dream of being back at the beach under the umbrella with a good book.

Rather, I’m speaking of those dreams that seemingly come from out of the blue, creeping into our sleep and ultimately leaving us wide-eyed and mystified and asking ourselves, “Where did that come from?”  Maybe, as Ebenezer Scrooge said, the dream is no more than “an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato.” In my case, it’s likely more often than not a side effect of a too much food from dinner at the Mexican restaurant.  My love for Mexican food seems to stimulate the “weird” factor that lurks within my brain, a catalyst that introduces and energizes strange and unexplainable thoughts and visions during my sleep time.

Let me give you an example.  A few nights ago, (in this instance, I had not eaten any kind of ethnic food), I dreamed that I was a speaker at a huge televised comedy gala.  As a matter of fact, I was the headliner.  Yep.  I was the main event.  The headline would have read, “Local CPA Makes Big Splash on Comedy Circuit”.  While I sat with the audience (feeling a little awkward, I might add), a couple of amateur comedians opened the show with brief routines, followed by a couple of well-known professional funnymen.  And then, yours truly was introduced as the featured entertainment for the evenings activities.  And this is where the trouble began.  First, I was not aware that I was going to be called on to even participate, let alone be the main jokester of the evening.  Secondly, I am an accountant.  Let me repeat that.  I am an accountant.  I deal in profits, losses, taxes, IRS audits, etc.  Not exactly the stuff that makes for funny jokes and stories.

So, what did I do?  Well, what could I do?  With an uncomfortable smile on my face, I waved at the audience and made my way to center stage.  Let’s face it, even a CPA is not going to turn this down.  And it’s only a dream, so what do I have to lose?  (Of course, I didn’t know that at the time.) At any rate, there was no escape or alternative, so I took my place center stage and immediately went to my comfort zone when it comes to humor…sarcasm.   I won’t say I have mastered the art of sarcasm, but I have honed my skills pretty well over the years.  So I began.  “I would like to applaud and thank the organizers of the event for selecting a 64 year-old CPA to make the people laugh, because, yeah, that’s what I do.”  Scattered laughter.  I know I was blowing any chance to be invited back next year, but what else did I have to lose?  And sarcasm and insults worked for Don Rickles, so why not me?

But that was all I had.  That one line was blurted out and then I was truly like a deer in the headlights, or in this case, the spotlight.  So I did the only think I could do.  I woke up.  Finally, reality.  I’m still in my bed, anticipating dozing back off and wondering if I’ll even remember this dream when I wake up the next morning.  I did.

On another occasion, I woke up extremely disappointed and angry about a dream.  Sometime after dozing off and floating into my nighttime reality, I dreamed I stumbled upon this incredible real estate deal.  I had found my dream house and was in the process of purchasing it.  It was a huge house, isolated at the top of a mountain (a small mountain).  Actually, it was more like a small castle than a house.  The only downside was that the upper floor opened into a parking deck that was, because of an existing contract, available to a few neighbors.  No big deal. I could live with the parking deck on the roof.  And I bought it for a song.  It was truly a dream house.  Yes, that’s exactly what it was.  It was a dream house.  When I awoke, I was still in my modest 1986 house.  My disappointment was only outweighed by my desire to go back to sleep and hope that when I awoke again, this would be real.  Well, if you’ve ever tried that trick, you know it doesn’t work.  So I got out of bed, resigned to the fact that that I was going to work instead of loading a moving van.

So, what is it that causes us to dream?  Or more to the point, what determines the content of our dreams?  Psychologists say things like stress, unmet wants and desires, and sometimes just certain food.  But in any instance, they can be entertaining, frightening or downright perplexing.  And how frustrating is it when you are having a good dream only to wake up and try to go back to sleep to finish the dream?

Back in the day when I was running marathons and other road races, I invariably had two recurring dreams.  One was when I was running in something like quicksand.  No matter how hard I tried, I was pretty much running in place.  Another was that I was late to the start line and grossly under-dressed.  OK, to be more accurate, completely undressed.

On very rare occasions, I’ve had what are commonly known as nightmares.  Not those recurring nightmares that you see in horror movies, but unsettling, nonetheless.  I won’t go into those here because they are either unpleasant or so far out in left field that you might suggest I consider professional counseling.  But for the most part, my dreams fall into one of two categories, pleasant or strange.   And apart from the occasional nightmare, those wacky dreams make for good conversation and laughter.  Maybe some are so crazy that you don’t share them, but you can still laugh at yourself.

Another question.  Why do our dreams seem to fade so quickly after we awake?  It seems that if we don’t write them down immediately or tell someone about them, they become a faint recollection of something that didn’t really happen in a matter of minutes.  Sometimes mine fade so fast that I doubt that I even dreamed the dream.  Does that make sense?  A good friend of mine who knows about this stuff says it’s probably related to chemical changes that occur in our brain each day after awakening.  Of course that raises more questions for another day.

What if you could bottle those good dreams?  Would you?  Our first response is likely that we would bottle the good ones.  But how wise would that be?  Would we use it to escape from a less pleasant reality?  Would we become so engrossed in dreaming that we neglected our reality?  I’m not a psychologist or psychiatrist, but that just doesn’t seem like a good idea.  So, let’s decide that we wouldn’t.

I’ve said a lot here, but offered no answers.  The truth is that I don’t have answers for these questions.  I suppose one could do the necessary research and find at least some answers.  Or I could explore it further with my friend.  However, I’m more content to just raise the questions and write about it.  A lack of knowledge about a subject has never been a barrier for me when it came time to discuss it.  And I guess to some degree, I enjoy the fact that I don’t have answers to these questions.  I enjoy the fact that dreams pop up seemingly out of nowhere and that I can spend time thinking about them and wondering if they mean anything without a plausible or scientific explanation.

But, they’re dreams.  That’s all they are.  And we shouldn’t get too caught up in them.  At least that’s my opinion.  I know in the Bible that God, on certain occasions, used dreams to communicate.  Some think He still does.  I don’t think that’s as common as some might think.  I believe God uses His written Word to provide all the answers we need to life’s questions.  But we can have that discussion on another day.  Today, we’re talking dreams.

I guess my ultimate point, if there is a point in all this, is that life is real. Dreams are…well, they’re dreams. And while dreams may offer an illusion of something better, or simpler, or easier, that’s all it is, an illusion. Real life is tougher, messier and…better. It’s better because it’s real. We can experience it, react to it, learn from it and experience the full gamut of emotions.  And when you consider that we don’t get to choose our dreams over real life, we realize we must move on and enjoy what we’ve been given.

That being said, I will continue to give thanks for the good things in my life, as well as the bad things because they are not there by accident.  I don’t believe in random occurrences in my life.  My belief in God doesn’t allow for it.  I will also contemplate and smile about my dreams, but I won’t spend too much time trying to figure them out.  And though I’m still fretting about that magnificent house that faded away with the morning light and the bedside alarm, I’ve moved on…kind of.

And no, I would not be your best choice to headline your upcoming comedy event.  The only one who thinks I’m funny is me.

Sweet dreams.