I have strange dreams. Now and then, I remember one of them, though more typically, they fade as soon as I wake up.
A dream the other night was particularly vivid. Days have passed, yet I still remember it clearly. It wasn’t one dream. More like two in a row, both about animals. Not my furry children. Wild animals with whom, to the best of my knowledge, I am unacquainted.
I dreamed about an elephant, an old elephant who communicated with me telepathically. He told me he was tired. He wanted to die. It was his time to rest. Next came a big bear from the woods. Just to visit me. He laid down next to me on the sofa and hugged me.
The only bear with whom I am personally acquainted is Teddy … and he wears a feathered bonnet.
The dream bear was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt.
Where do dreams come from? I know the theories, psychological, paranormal and upside down and none of them quite fits.
Dreams seem to combine bits of reality, mythology, memories, and books I’ve recently read. Our current binge TV shows. All these unrelated images combine in peculiar ways, yet I inevitably awaken with a powerful sense that there’s something important I need to know, which I’m trying to tell myself. And which continues to eludes me.
Maybe some day, the key will come with the dreams. The lock will turn and many secrets will transform into knowledge.
Or maybe not.