Dream Seeker, or Dream Dissector?

April 25, 2024 Dream seeker or dissector?

What have you dreamed lately?

Can you remember or recall your dreams? Are they good, bad, indifferent?

For sure, most dreams are confusing. At least mine are.

So, recently I woke up having just a snippet of a memory of some dream—a most unusual one for me. What on earth, (or heaven) did it mean, I wondered?

I barely have dreams where I can remember anything, but this was vivid.

I was sitting down in a trio of people—including Ronald Reagan as president of the U.S. I wish I knew who the third person was, but it probably doesn’t matter. That’s about all I remember of that dream.

But Ronnie Reagan—in my dream?!

Maybe it was because the next day I was headed to the outskirts of Washington D.C., to a hotel near Dulles airport, the Dulles Regency to be exact. And of course Reagan lived in Washington D.C. for eight years. I was attending a Lions Club State Convention there, because of my role as our club’s secretary.

I need to confess, I never voted for Reagan but I ended up being happy that eventually he reached out across national borders to establish a friendship of sorts with Mikhail Gorbachev, somewhat removing the iron curtain or nuclear arms race for our two huge countries. Reagan served from 1981 to 1989 as the 40^th president; my oldest daughter, who was born in 1981, remembers Reagan and how confused she was at the age of 8 or so when she heard that Reagan was no longer president! How could that be, she wondered?! (She soon got updated. 😊)

Of course we know a bit of Reagan’s eventual dementia or Alzheimer’s, and his cowboy movie beginnings.

I’ll leave you there. No great revelation. No outstanding learning. What did it all mean?

For me, and for our family personally, it meant a bit of glasnost. I wrote of this experience about two years ago when the recent war in Ukraine fired up. Back in 1990 we spent an interesting couple of days hosting a teacher from the former Soviet Union in our home, and showing her what we could about life in the U.S.

But again, how do your dreams go? Good, bad, indifferent? Exciting, scary, miserable? Are you left on a stage without your pants on, or worse?

I also always remember how terrified I was as a young girl when my cousins told us stories about kidnappers and how I dreamed about them. But I also worried so much that I spent years (maybe two or three) dutifully looking under my bed each night before I went to bed, and even heading over to a long narrow closet in my sister’s room to check for spooks. How unhealthy was that??

If you’re interested in exploring more about dreams, I found this from Women’s Health Magazine somewhat helpful.

Have you ever had a dream you truly tried to unpack?

Why do certain events enter our dreams?

Share here or send me a message!