Dreaming runs in my family. I don’t mean daydreams, I mean that almost every night I have intense dreams and I usually remember them in flashbacks throughout the day. My mom and my sisters are the same way, as was my grandfather and his mother.
We dream about what we did that day, or what we’ve been anxious about, or problems we’re trying to figure out. When I started at Fuller, I spent many nights dreaming about fuzzy theological concepts, trying to weave them together into cohesive outlines as I slept, and when my sister started her physician’s assistant program, she was also plagued by intense dreams of studying.
Most of my dreams are relational, working out issues I have with loved ones, with “frenemies,” or with intriguing acquaintances. It’s the way I process my life, especially if I’m too busy to think and feel deeply, or to talk and write about my feelings and experiences. I’ve been aching to write since I’ve been back from Europe, but I just haven’t had time. All my memories and thoughts from the trip are raw material building up inside me, and I need to get them out on paper or on a screen so that they can take shape and become something useful, or beautiful, or both.
But I haven’t been able to write. Even now, I’m just tapping this out at my job as a substitute teacher, in between helping students. So my dreams have been on overdrive, sorting my memories and feelings and sending me off to other places every night: back to the monastery in Italy, back to the water in Cinque Terre, even to random places I didn’t go on this trip, like Sweden and some weird warehouse where I meet a bunch of people from my travels. It’s exhausting!
So hopefully I’ll have some time to write soon, and some new material for this blog, and some less interesting dreams…
P.S. The trip was fantastic!!