Dreams are bizarre. At least, mine are. The premises, settings, and cast of characters shift constantly. One minute I could be fighting aliens, the next I could be stuck in a 70s film with Burt Reynolds and a bear (probably my dream brain's weak attempt at a pun: "Smokey (the Bear) and the Bandit" - nyak, nyak. Cough - moving on).
The funny thing is that I usually accept the bizarreness as reality, even when it means doing things I would never do when I'm awake. Of course, that raises all sorts of moral questions. The only one I intend to address this morning is why when I faced two objectionable choices last night, I went along with one and not the other. Don't worry - it's nothing racy unless you're offended by biker fights in bars. On the other hand, if that's your cup of tea, by all means continue reading.
So, Burt, the Bear, and I pulled up to a bar in Burt's 18-wheeler, and I got out and headed for the bar's front door. At this point in the dream I was a burly biker dude, complete with beard, long hair, and black leather. I knew my role as if I were reading it from a script. Part One: Knock someone across the room to establish a reputation as a tough-guy-not-to-be-messed-with. No problem. Some random guy went flying and everyone else subsequently avoided eye contact. Part Two: Saunter up to the bar, scowl, and order a drink. It can be anything, even something weird or campy, as long as I'm convincingly gruff about ordering.
For some reason, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't even order a virgin strawberry daiquiri, a tame, non-alcoholic beverage I've always been kinda curious about. I just stared at the bartender, then turned and stalked out of the bar. The dream went on unruffled - we continued merrily along to a waterslide park with a great buffet - but after I awoke I wondered why I could sock a total stranger but not order a fake drink.
My best guess is that actions in my dreams often seem to happen with little mental input from me and I just accept them as normal, but ordering the drink would require words, and that requires thinking. Once my brain was engaged in the decision-making, my moral standards were, too, and I refused to override them.
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4 comments:
I've never read too much into my dreams. Usually I'm just grateful to escape. Maybe I'm missing out on a valuable learning tool.
interesting...
I'm always fascinated with my dreams. I enjoy the movie-ish entertaining ones. And dread the all-too-real ones where i wake up crying or infuriated.
as much as you can read into it...isn't it a little bit comforting that your moral code is such a deep part of you?
and I've tried a virgin strawberry daquiri - it's delicious. a virgin pina colada is excellent as well. course i'm a big smoothie-lover. we rarely order drinks...but sometimes for special occasions TJ will splurge.
I usually don't read much into dreams either because most of mine seem too weird to have any bearing on reality. However, I thought it interesting that my brain refused to go along with one thing after accepting everything else.
Incidentally, back in college I had some roommates who always prayed that they wouldn't have bad dreams, and since I adopted their practice I have had very few nightmares. Of course, that may also be because I watch tame movies and virtually no TV, so I rarely see an image I wouldn't want to revisit.
STM, which is the escape - setting aside stressful life while you dream a bit, or waking up from stressful dreams to comforting reality?
It's always fun to talk about what everyone dreams about, because it is so funny. I dream sometimes that I am in my garments and I am searching all over the city looking for clothes. I dream alot that I am still in highschool and facing decisions of being part of the group or not. I wake up alot still tired from all the work I did in my dream. hahaha. Strawberry daquiries are really good. Maybe deep inside you would love to explore the idea of being a biker chic. hahah.
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