Wet Dreams

There was a smell that I experienced in my dreams last night. It was distinctive yet comforting and some how…I assume through some kind of unconscious permission I granted it…that scent stayed with me all day. It was there on my children’s breath as we cuddled, when I was cooking our lunch, when I was finishing my run and my throat and lips were dry. It was present during our “girl outing” and when I was drinking my wine tonight. I’m not going to suddenly jump in and share intimate details of my dream existence but, this scent did remind me of my past relationship with my dreaming state…

During my younger years ages six straight through to my mid twenties, my dreams played a significant role in my creativity. I’ve had many reoccurring dreams that have been able to cross over the threshold of sleeping and awake. In my earlier years it created fear and confusion but it was also empowering and comforting when nothing in my awake state was. Things appeared for me in my awake state that I knew should have not but I also had friends and even crushes that existed within my dreams. I recall inventing ways to bring drawings and other objects into my sleeping visions and then there were other times when my horrific phantoms followed me into my bedroom after I was awake and spoke to me or plotted against me.

I wasn’t able to speak about it for a long time. Then in my later highschool years I started sharing my “visions”, for a lack of a better word and tears used to drip down my face as I did. I haven’t felt that in many years now. That incredibly unexplainable horrific and yet enlightening emotions of sharing my dreams with someone. My eyes used to literally well up even though I had no intention or inkling to cry.

In my twenties I had better relationships at times with my dreams than I did with my friends. Although those friendships were some of my most important ones….there was….frustration, let’s say. In my dreams I was able to resolve those feelings. There were times when I lived for the nights so that I could speak my truth to my dream phantoms.

And then a couple of years later my life became more brutally real. There was more to be worried about, less time to sleep, and more reasons to live within the reality that society strongly encourages us to live within. I kind of just…forgot. It all just kind of dissipated like the graphite dust that I blow away from my drawing…

But I thought about it today. Not a lot. It didn’t overpower my thoughts. But it lingered in that slightly sour scent that hung around my neck. I find myself now longing for that confusion of reality. The joy that i experienced as I tiptoed back and forth along the threshold that no one ever really needed to know or understand….

I think that perhaps reentering a more creative outlook on life has allowed me the opportunity to rediscover that magical door between asleep and awake. Hopefully as an adult I can have more of a handle on the direction but still allow myself the luxury to experience it in whatever form my subconscious sees fit. I smell that scent even now as s I write. It sits with me and calls to me and I hope to see you tonight in my dreams….

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