The stuff of dreams
I had a dream last night which, upon reflection over the course of the day, has surprised me.
First off, one of my daughters was in it. So my first surprise was realizing that I don’t usually dream about my kids. Can’t say why that is. I don’t pretend to have the first clue what the whole deal with dreams is and I don’t believe anyone in all of academia knows either, so I'm not going to worry about it too much or try to speculate on the meaning behind my wee beasties’ absence from my dreams.
I don’t remember the whole dream but I do remember the last bit. It was the kind of dream that would normally have had me waking feeling exhausted, eyes watery from the tears I felt I should have been crying in this kind of dream, sad and slightly shaken by the experience - even if it wasn’t real.
Picture this. I’m trying to get to where my daughter is so I can say goodbye to her. I don’t know where she is going - some sort of camp maybe - but she is going for a while. Not sure why a three year old is going away for so long, but let’s not be reality sticklers about my dream, okay?
I’m headed across sprawling pavement, I think I’m in a big box development somewhere. I’m trying to get past and through the buildings to get to my daughter. I keep trying to move forward but there’s always something impeding my progress. People wanting to talk. Buildings that move or change shape. Not ending up where I think I’m going. I’m also moving on all-fours, slowly clawing my way across the pavement by my front arms at one point (a la T-1000 chasing after Arnie and John), being for some reason unable to move my back appendages.
No matter the obstacle, I am spurred on by the singular thought of reaching my daughter to take her in my arms and hug her with every ounce of my energy for a long, drawn out farewell embrace. I can feel her tiny limbs squeezing me back in my dream’s mind’s eye (good one, eh?) and it is everything I want to feel right then and there and I cannot stop moving until I have that embrace and that feeling.
After an incredibly long time, I make it to the place of her departure. There is a school bus in front of me. I scan the bus and finally see that my daughter is on it. I see her looking for me. She is worried.
I need to get myself on that bus to get that parting hug, only I realize that there is no door. I look back to my daughter and see that she now sees me. A huge smile spreads across her face. She waves like crazy. I reciprocate. She says something, waves again, and turns around to sit down, presumably to talk to her seat mate. I stop waving and my smile decreases in size, but it is still there. I watch as the bus pulls away. I wake up.
Now here’s the second thing that surprised me about the dream.
No tears. No immense sadness that I did not get that hug I was so desperate to have. Just happy that the girl got on her way, and we got to “say” good bye.
I think I’ve struck the heart of what it is to experience being a parent with this dream. As a parent I have so many “wants” when it comes to my kids. But parenting gets really real when you can and do just drop all those wants when faced with what your kid wants and needs from you.
Nothing could stop me from getting to my daughter in my dream. Nothing could stop me from getting that hug - except when I saw what she needed from me. Right then and there I dropped all my desires for that moment and let her take over.
The key thing, the thing that makes parenting such an incredible transformation, is that I was okay with the curve ball I was thrown. I didn’t yell and kick and scream - which would have been completely okay, since it was only a dream - at the bus driver (there must have been one). I just let her go the way she wanted to go. I don’t put a whole lot into dreams, but I do think there was something to the fact that I so easily gave up what I wanted in a land of fantasy where I could have done anything at all.
Of course in real life, I’m not always as gracious. I do try to keep any tantrums related to not getting my way inside my head, especially when it comes to my kids.
Anyway, I was struck by the simplicity and beauty of that moment in my dream.
And you won, little one. And not for the last time, I know.
First off, one of my daughters was in it. So my first surprise was realizing that I don’t usually dream about my kids. Can’t say why that is. I don’t pretend to have the first clue what the whole deal with dreams is and I don’t believe anyone in all of academia knows either, so I'm not going to worry about it too much or try to speculate on the meaning behind my wee beasties’ absence from my dreams.
I don’t remember the whole dream but I do remember the last bit. It was the kind of dream that would normally have had me waking feeling exhausted, eyes watery from the tears I felt I should have been crying in this kind of dream, sad and slightly shaken by the experience - even if it wasn’t real.
Picture this. I’m trying to get to where my daughter is so I can say goodbye to her. I don’t know where she is going - some sort of camp maybe - but she is going for a while. Not sure why a three year old is going away for so long, but let’s not be reality sticklers about my dream, okay?
I’m headed across sprawling pavement, I think I’m in a big box development somewhere. I’m trying to get past and through the buildings to get to my daughter. I keep trying to move forward but there’s always something impeding my progress. People wanting to talk. Buildings that move or change shape. Not ending up where I think I’m going. I’m also moving on all-fours, slowly clawing my way across the pavement by my front arms at one point (a la T-1000 chasing after Arnie and John), being for some reason unable to move my back appendages.
No matter the obstacle, I am spurred on by the singular thought of reaching my daughter to take her in my arms and hug her with every ounce of my energy for a long, drawn out farewell embrace. I can feel her tiny limbs squeezing me back in my dream’s mind’s eye (good one, eh?) and it is everything I want to feel right then and there and I cannot stop moving until I have that embrace and that feeling.
After an incredibly long time, I make it to the place of her departure. There is a school bus in front of me. I scan the bus and finally see that my daughter is on it. I see her looking for me. She is worried.
I need to get myself on that bus to get that parting hug, only I realize that there is no door. I look back to my daughter and see that she now sees me. A huge smile spreads across her face. She waves like crazy. I reciprocate. She says something, waves again, and turns around to sit down, presumably to talk to her seat mate. I stop waving and my smile decreases in size, but it is still there. I watch as the bus pulls away. I wake up.
Now here’s the second thing that surprised me about the dream.
No tears. No immense sadness that I did not get that hug I was so desperate to have. Just happy that the girl got on her way, and we got to “say” good bye.
I think I’ve struck the heart of what it is to experience being a parent with this dream. As a parent I have so many “wants” when it comes to my kids. But parenting gets really real when you can and do just drop all those wants when faced with what your kid wants and needs from you.
Nothing could stop me from getting to my daughter in my dream. Nothing could stop me from getting that hug - except when I saw what she needed from me. Right then and there I dropped all my desires for that moment and let her take over.
The key thing, the thing that makes parenting such an incredible transformation, is that I was okay with the curve ball I was thrown. I didn’t yell and kick and scream - which would have been completely okay, since it was only a dream - at the bus driver (there must have been one). I just let her go the way she wanted to go. I don’t put a whole lot into dreams, but I do think there was something to the fact that I so easily gave up what I wanted in a land of fantasy where I could have done anything at all.
Of course in real life, I’m not always as gracious. I do try to keep any tantrums related to not getting my way inside my head, especially when it comes to my kids.
Anyway, I was struck by the simplicity and beauty of that moment in my dream.
And you won, little one. And not for the last time, I know.
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