One of those early morning ones. The kind that refuses to let you go back to sleep again and you remember every detail as though it really happened. It went something like this:
I find myself on a commercial flight to parts entirely unknown, surrounded by people who seem familiar but are not recognisable. Everything is normal for a moment, and then it dawns on us that the plane was not being piloted by anyone. Someone volunteers to try and land it on a deserted highway we all somehow know is ahead of us and I get the distinct impression that the someone was female, but I can’t be sure and for a moment I am confused as to who it is or why ‘she’ is the best choice we have. Next moment we are coming in to crash land and as we descend, I can see a pine forest whip by on either side and an unknown man standing beside the road ahead of us. He is old, but in the way that that most would guess his age much younger. I scream a wordless warning as the wing barely misses him and I see him turn and smile before I am looking forward again. It’s as if everyone can ‘see’ through the front of the plane from front row seats and we watch as the plane touches down roughly bouncing off the modern highway, the airframe shuddering and scraping and the nose bashing strangely old rusty cars out of the way. It seems as if we will be fine, then we clip something and spin around and around almost endlessly and I can feel my body being pushed outward by the centrifugal force. We finally stop across a train track facing forward, just moments before one of those huge freight trains with the two large round circular push bars on the front slams into the nose of the plane. The train smashes everything and everyone before me and comes to a stop two rows in front of me.
I wake and for once I can recall every moment of the dream. I never normally do, a fact I am sure of because I have tried to keep a dream diary for writing inspiration – useless if you never remember anything.
I used to have a recurring dream when I was a kid of sandy coloured wolves chasing me through the salt hardened roads and streets of a small coastal town where I started school. The wolves would chase and howl and I would always race ahead of them in absolute terror and panic until I reached the dark red painted slasto floor of the porch in front of our house. The front door would always be locked and I could never get to ‘safety’ . The wolves would race into the garden, but somehow they always stopped and never climbed the steps or came any closer than the garden, but I could still ‘see’ their feral eyes and teeth and hear their howls of frustration. After the first few times I dreamt this, my rational awake mind would tell myself that they never got me and to stop being so afraid, but the dream was never any less terrifying. Not sure when I stopped having this dream, but I had it for years and I survived…
So what’s with this latest one? I have not watched any train wrecks or plane disaster movies in in a long time and I am not sure where these images come from. I’m not taking any medication and have not had a drink in weeks. I figure I am probably stressed and slightly nuts but who isn’t. I’m not one for planes and trains and other than the obvious feeling of being entirely out of control in the dream, it’s a pretty weird one with vivid details that seem to shout out something but I have no idea what.
So what is my subconscious mind trying to tell me? Anyone keen to play dream interpreter for a day? Not that I place much stock in this kind of thing of course. 😉