When we go to rest, what greets us can be quite peculiar. Our dreams can take on a diverse range of forms. Sometimes they are nonsensical, like running around a looped hospital hallway with rooms labeled lactose, lactase, and Lactaid. Other times, they reflect current experiences from waking hours, like failing a test anticipated for the coming day. The latter can be more direct in its origins and purpose, pointing us in a certain direction or reaffirming our decisions.
In the face of similar stressors, I have dreamt about forgetting to pack an item crucial for the project of the day. Waking up from such a dream, there is a shower of relief, appreciation for a second chance, and invigorated strength to face what is to come. The expulsion of fear that ran throughout the night makes it easier to face the day, and can be a reminder to remember what would have been otherwise forgotten.
Alternatively, fantastical dreams provide a more complex canvas to dissect. With the weight that our dreams can have, it can be nice to entertain the notion that dreams are our unconscious mind’s way to manifest our worries—to reveal what would otherwise be kept hidden. Yet, trying to investigate the deeper meanings can be like trying to peer into the bottom of a pond that has frosted over, even more so when much time has passed.
From my childhood, one such dream that has stuck with me was being chased around my house by a raw chicken. Dashing through each room of the otherwise vacant house, I intended to outrun and lock out the chicken to no avail. It was dreadfully comical, though when I woke, I was just left puzzled. What did it mean? Why had I been so awfully scared of a raw chicken? Certainly, the empty house could have pointed to a fear of being home alone, but there were no notable landmarks from my childhood that I recall that would spark symbolism with a chicken. Hence, that part may have just been the work of an overactive imagination, or just another reminder, this time that metaphors may not always be clear. Either way, it lingers, leaving much room for thought.
Since then, I have not had to face that featherless headless chicken again, though I still have a plethora of unusual dreams, more toned down, but that still leave me with questions to find answers for. Perhaps that is just the nature of dreams—to remind us that some answers are not always clear and that our minds are always working, sometimes in strange ways, whether we want them to or not.