I am not sure why no one seems to write dream logs anymore; perhaps they are seen as too subjective
? I am new so I have stayed away from them, thinking there is some taboo
or unspoken rule against them. So be warned; if you do not like reading about dreams; if you find them flaky and overly personal; if you would rather read facts
, then this is not for you!
The last four nights I have dreamt of boats. Massive steel monsters, mostly, and they crash. I can always tell that something in my life is changing, because I dream about disasters. But what is it this time?
In this one I was climbing the ferry, the big one between Vancouver Island and the mainland, because they wouldn't let me on. I hung from the ropes and swung like Tarzan onto the loading decks - actually this one was pretty fun. I got on board all out of breath and covered in boat grease. Mike was there and he said "Sarah why do you always do things the hard way?" Mike is a sailor. About an hour in we sank, but me and Mike swam to Vancouver, after trying to save everyone.
In this one we were on a wooden boat, patrolling the coast. There was a feeling that we had escaped something. Who is "we"? I don't know - it is the kind of "we" you have in dreams, where you feel that you know them, but upon waking discover that they are strangers.
Everyone was rich and eating good things; I think i was a cook or a dishwasher. The wood cracked and they panicked, but I was strangely calm. I remember being so close to the shore, thinking "you morons, you can just swim." From the rocks I watched as it split and fell into the sea.
In this one the boat was glass, and it shattered fast as the winds came up. I was with someone famous and they expected me to save them. But my mind was wandering; I could only remember to save myself. I watched the water well up on the glass and it was pretty cool. We ran through the hallways (again, this "we"!) feeling the toss and turn underneath our feet and it was like a race. I smiled, I think, and then we sank.
The last one was in kayaks. Just me and my dad. We flew down the river in wetsuits, rapids and all, emerging on Christmas Day. Everyone told us we couldn't do it but we did, only a little bruised. Once, halfway through, we sat on a rock eating sandwiches, thinking we were lost. But what could we do but continue? In all these dreams I remain calm under pressure and I believe this comes from my father, always quiet, always thinking. He is a smart man who does not believe in panic, and always wins at chess.
I have also dreamt lately of water, and swimming, and pools. Is this related? I believe so. Maybe I am secretly a dolphin. I would like that.
I don't really know what this all means, except that it is summer, and I live on an island, and I am afraid of the ocean at night. In the back of my mind I am trying to work this out.