belfebe (belfebe) wrote,
belfebe
belfebe

Dreaming of Elephants and Other Stories

"So," I tell ballistabob this morning. "Can you tell me why you gave me a baby elephant last night?"

"Only if you tell me why Robert de Niro turned out to be Dracula and tried to implant an electronic device on my chest," he replies without missing a beat.

Ahhh, the beauty of dreaming . . .

I dream every night.

Good dreams, bad dreams, recurring dreams, dreams that tell me what is about to happen and dreams of people who have passed away.

I dream.

Every. Single. Night.

My therapist says that I am lucky, and that most people stop remembering their dreams once they hit adolescence. Yet, some of us keep dreaming like we never grew up, and even end up having an entire bunch of places where to go back. Streets, houses, malls, people, even rivers and skies and trees. They are all there in our dreams, ready to welcome us.

Honestly, one of the reasons why I have a hard time waking up in the mornings is that I am usually so caught up on what's going on in my dream, that it's difficult to turn it off and make the jump to the world of reality.

Besides, it's a great way of keeping in touch with dead people.

Dead people like to come visit in dreams. I have quite interesting conversations with my father, for example, which makes me wonder how different is the other world compared to this one. It does seem that some of the issues remain the same.

Go figure.

Of course, it does have the glitch that some of your visitors may turn out to be dead ex-husbands, but there's no helping it. Once you realize that there is nothing to worry about it, you can just say hi and move on. Life continues (or death, or whatever), and we just chill.

Another thing is nightmares. Sometimes it gets too scary and weird even for the likes of me. However, years ago I learned to remember that it is only a dream and that I can change it. This has the result of feeling a "disturbance in the force" in the flow of the dream, which is kind of weird.

Some other dreams are disturbing. However, as long as I remember that I have no control overy what my brain decides to throw at me that night, there is no reason to feel guilty about it. Or at least, it allows me to push it aside and chalk it up to that part of me that I can tap only when I am asleep.

Nothing wrong with that.

The other kind of dream is the one that talks to me about what is about to happen. Those are really freaky, but they allow me just to sit back and wait for the other shoe to drop. And the Manolo Blahniks usually do. Those are quite reliable dreams, except that they have their own twists and turns. Nothing is entirely what it seems.

Of course, there are those other moments in which I feel that one can have a foot in this reality and a foot in another, even when you are awake.

One of my favorite experiences was when I was attending Law school, and I wasn't even dating the guy that would become my first husband. Hence, I wasn't pregnant or even thinking of getting pregnant. Yet, there I was, walking downtown, minding my own business, when all of a sudden I catch a figure from the corner of my eye.

It was a tallish, slim, dark young man with curly hair. He seemed to be about 18 to 21 years old. I turned my head, and there was no one there.

"Oh," I told myself. "That's my son."

And he was. My dark child was my first kid, and if you look at him today, he looks just like that. When things were the worst with him, and when I was worrying whether or not he would survive to be an adult, I remembered that I had seen him at 21, and I knew that I would not have to go and identify him on a slab. It was strangely reassuring, yet my worries remained the same.

Today, he is a hardworking young man and I am incredibly proud of him. And knowing that he'd be around at least for his 21st birthday was an incredible relief at the time.

Something similar happened with El Brato. When I was pregnant of him, and in those days you would not know what the gender of your kid was until you actually delivered him, I remember going to bed and closing my eyes and seeing this little blond guy, about six years old, wearing shorts and socks and a school uniform.

And that was my young kid. He looked exactly as I saw him.

No, I am not psychic. I have just learned to accept that dreams and premonitions exist and that they will come to you, as long as you are willing to accept them and listen to them.

But I still think that baby elephants are very cute when young, but what am I going to do with it when it grows up? I wonder if this one will show up again in another dream . . .

That'll be a lot to clean up in the back yard.
Tags: dreams, family
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