The unrandomness of dreams

I had a dream last night that I was crook. No more than a pretty bad cold or flu, but it was vivid and familiar. I couldn’t help coughing in the dream, and felt pretty miserable.

Lo and behold what I dreamt last night has come to pass this afternoon. Now I don’t think this is a coincidence. This obviously was coming on last night and the body knew it, even if I didn’t. The dream was letting me know what was on the way.

I think dreams are more than random electrical events. Often I think it’s our sub-conscious communicating to our consciousness in the form of a kind of parable. Sometimes the dreams are like last nights, a sort of update of necessary info. If you’re smart enough you’ll get the message.

Other times the dreams are interpretative of what has been going on in your life. We’ve all had these dreams. Say you like someone and can’t stop thinking about them. Or make an effort to not think about them. Dreams carry on from where we left off, or take what we’ve thought and apply their metaphysical filters to it. The result may be a weird dream, but generally there’s a kernel of sense in it. Revealed is some sense of the truth hitherto hidden from your conscious mind. Dreams do the heavy work of separating sense from nonsense, they glean the essential in the random thoughts that revolve in your mind.

It’s interesting that I have a different order of dreams when I sleep at ‘home’ as compared to what I dream when I sleep in a different. I’ve done that regularly lately, and my sleep is full of colourful, hopeful dreams. The dreams I have otherwise are mostly humdrum. I don’t know what means.

For now that seems secondary to what I feel right now. I think it’s got a way to go, but I’m already feeling pretty shithouse. I’m coughing plenty, and have got the aches and pains all over, but what’s really giving me the shits is the shivers. I’m rugged up like a polar explorer, and my teeth are chattering and my body wracked every few moments by another attack of the shivers. Then I lay down and I’m burning up.

If I was truly home I would go to bed now and snuggle up between the bedclothes, warm and oblivious, seeking the solace of a dreamless sleep. It’s a highly alluring thought, but that’s not to be. I’ll rug myself up and lay on the couch instead.

 

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