Tuesday, February 2, 2010


How's your dream world treating you?

I've read some writers say that a dream gave them an idea for a book. I could never put anything I dream into a book. Not only are my dreams vivid, in color, but they are also weird.

After I quit smoking, for years I dreamed I was still smoking.

I dream about the house I grew up in--though I'm an adult in the dreams and the house was demolished for a freeway.

The house we had in Oxnard is often the setting for my dreams. We remodeled that house several times, and I've dreamed about it in all the different stage s of remodeling. The neighborhood around the house doesn't resemble the true neighborhood at all. The houses are huge, three and four stories and in stages of disrepair. I don't think I've ever seen any houses like that, yet I've dreamed about them many times. I'm usually trying to get somewhere.

One night recently I dreamed about a lady who goes to our church. She offered to take me home and we drove on a narrow mountain road (no, you don't have to take a mountain road to get to my house) and all of a sudden she drove down another steep road that went right into a huge lake. She couldn't stop and there we were. She couldn't swim so it was up to me to save her. I woke up and have no idea how that ended. I've turned the woman down a couple of times when she's offered to drive me home, just in case, but I finally rode with her and she managed to get me to my house without driving into the drink.

I've had a recurrent dream about driving high into the mountains and finding the road impassable because of snow and getting out and trying to hike to the place I needed to go. (I would never drive into the mountains on my own--and I'm not all that fond of snow so I'd never get out and hike in it.)

My most frequent dream is being in most any place: camping, a large hotel, someone's house and trying to find a bathroom. If I do find one, there's no door, or long lines waiting for only one bathroom, or a bathroom with no toilet. When I wake, of course I need to make a trek to my own bathroom.

I've dreamed that I could fly several times. All I had to do was stand in a corner, raise my hands over my head and off I went--and I could actually go right through the ceiling and up into the sky. (Sounds more like astral projection than flying.)

I dream a lot about writing conferences and not being able to find my way to where I'm supposed to be going. If I'm presenting in my dream, I can't find my materials, or they are all jumbled up.

Though I can certainly figure what sparked a lot of these dreams, others are a puzzle. Many of them border on nightmares, but I kind of enjoy them.

So what kind of dreams do you have? Do you dream in color or black and white? Can you figure out what your dreams mean?



  1. I love this post. In high school, I did a science fair project all four years on some aspect of dream research. It's how I got my scholarship to college. Unfortunately, I don't know how to interpret dreams. But I have variants of many of the ones you listed... the flying, not being able to find things, not being able to find a bathroom. Funny. The worst recurring dream I have is the one where I suddenly realize I never took a final exam in high school. Therefore, I never truly graduated, and I don't really have college degrees then either. This makes me panic every time.

  2. I have weird in-color dreams, too, Marilyn! And often I'm in a house I used to live in (rarely, if ever, in our house now).

    Rachel, what is it with the not being able to find a bathroom dreams? Sometimes in my dreams, the only toilet is in the middle of a room full of people or outside where people can see. So I have to decide whether to pee in public or hold it. Too freaky! And I have the dream about not graduating, too. Often I'm back in high school, and I'm telling my mother, "But I know I graduated from college, so why am I back here going to class?" Must be an anxiety thing, huh?

    I never dream scenes from my books, but I do wake up fairly frequently knowing the answer to how a scene should unfold. I have to groggily drag myself from bed to jot down notes, or I know I'll forget. My husband insists he doesn't remember his dreams. I sometimes recall bits and pieces of two or three. I'd venture to say he sleeps more soundly than I do!

    Fun topic, Marilyn!