Dreaming is something I try to write down, but often they can be fragmented or difficult to recall. The dream I had the other night was not long but very vivid and it is recounted this way:
The dream starts with beautiful singing or actually more like chanting in a Native American resonance coming into the house. The place seemed like home but not home. The voices came from the back of the house and upon moving outside to hear it, to see who was singing, was met with lovely warm sunlight and waving august grass amongst copses of fir trees. There in the grass were two young foals with mane’s slightly moving under the breeze. I looked and listened for where the song was coming from, but there was no one there, just the sound moving through the trees and the foals quietly forging.
I remember then not wondering about who was singing, where they were and just stood enjoying the young horses all the while being soothed in the powerful chant and then woke.
If thought about, sometimes but not always, when one thinks back there can be clues of dreams from recent talks, reading or events. What was particular about this was that it was rather cold and snowy and had been reading a fair amount about our human condition from a psychological perspective and it is not pretty. So not sure why my dream seemed so opposite to my conscious reading state the night before, just was not expecting something - thankfully, like this to wake with the next morning.
The dream starts with beautiful singing or actually more like chanting in a Native American resonance coming into the house. The place seemed like home but not home. The voices came from the back of the house and upon moving outside to hear it, to see who was singing, was met with lovely warm sunlight and waving august grass amongst copses of fir trees. There in the grass were two young foals with mane’s slightly moving under the breeze. I looked and listened for where the song was coming from, but there was no one there, just the sound moving through the trees and the foals quietly forging.
I remember then not wondering about who was singing, where they were and just stood enjoying the young horses all the while being soothed in the powerful chant and then woke.
If thought about, sometimes but not always, when one thinks back there can be clues of dreams from recent talks, reading or events. What was particular about this was that it was rather cold and snowy and had been reading a fair amount about our human condition from a psychological perspective and it is not pretty. So not sure why my dream seemed so opposite to my conscious reading state the night before, just was not expecting something - thankfully, like this to wake with the next morning.
