Unless it’s my recurring nightmares about school or a passionate kiss with a famous actor, I’ve rarely remembered the contents of my dreams. But lately they have been powerfully vivid and achingly poignant -- the kind where I miss both the experiences and the people who populate them well into the following day. The dreams are sweet (and bittersweet) reminders of past life phases -- high school, college, summer camp, relationships (romantic and otherwise) -- alchemized into strange and beautiful combinations.
In this phase of my life -- embarking on a new career -- I’m inevitably stirring up a lot of dust in various parts of my psyche. So it makes sense that my dreams are more intense and memorable. Frankly, I often can’t wait to go to sleep -- it’s like I’m getting to watch my imagination’s version of “The Emily Show.”
Although I’m sad when each episode ends, I know it will come back in some kind of rerun. After all, I haven’t yet found my high school locker, passed that end-of-semester math test, fulfilled my gym requirements or made it to my date with that hot movie star. But a girl can dream…