If you’re anything like me, when I wake up, it’s a struggle to remember most dreams; even nightmares seem to fade with time. They fill our heads in our subconscious state, scrambling and unscrambling all the data we absorbed in recent times and dissipate as we rise and face the day.
Sometimes, I wonder if our pillow is the filter for these oh-so-real imaginings. I like to think they slip through the cotton and collect on the underside. Then perhaps are carried off to some dreamland junk yard, where they are piled up like old cars. Or maybe they’re recycled for the next generation’s sleep cycle. Maybe they’re what holds the clouds together until their accumulated weight makes it rain. Those theories must have come to me in a dream.
On the other hand, our worries and doubts stay with us as we lay down and are there to greet us with the morning sun. They don’t drift away in the land of the forgotten. Instead, they keep us awake, sit heavily in our head. It’s like our pillow hoards these regrets and wishes so they remain like guests that overstay, not permitting them to soak through and dissolve.
I wonder what my days would look like if the patterns were reversed. If wild thoughts kept us company while worries were carelessly thrown away. I wonder if recalling that I was a hero or solver of all problems while I slept would place me in a better mood, rather then spending energy questioning future outcomes or letting guilt take up space.
Until I master the ability to alter brainwaves, I will need to find other ways to cope with the challenging aspects of life that mire my focus. Mindfulness, meditation and surrounding myself with positive people are a few possible strategies.
I’ll sleep on it and let you know.
Dreams and nightmares, they slip through my pillow with ease Foggy images that disappear with the slightest breeze All but forgotten, no trace where once my head rested Just empty, wrinkled sheets where imagination nested O that I might collect these confusing visions and dualities Dripped from my sleep, diluting into realities Worries and hopes though, remain trapped in my head Cuddling too close, stealing covers from my bed Not lost in pillows, not whisked into night while asleep Clinging to my wake, long after I pray my soul to keep Rising at dawn, they greet me with gravity of the sun I didn’t forget one mistake, one hope, one regret, not one Soft pillow stand guard, discard my guilts and fears Cradle my ideals, stroke my ego, dry my tears Let me rise in company of dreamy interpretations Surround me in paradise, my imaginary nation B. Toner August 2022