Dancing outside my comfort zone

Last night, exhausted after a very intense class and an otherwise busy weekend, I went to bed far earlier than my norm thinking I might as well, since I could hardly keep my eyes open.  At first, it seemed like a wise choice as I was asleep soon after my head hit the pillow.

Until the first time I woke up in a cold sweat!

The first dream I remember had me working in a cubicle, but on board a ship.  We lived and worked on this ship, and I remember having a bathing suit on under my clothes as I was going to meet someone at the gym.  I went back to my office for something and heard someone talking about sinking the ship.  It was then that I remembered that the ship was being evacuated and they were going to sink it (though the reason was never made clear).  Looking out a window (yes, a window, not a porthole), thinking maybe I could just swim for it, I saw that the sea around me was already black, meaning that the ship had sunk too far for me to swim.  I also realized that there were animals on board who had not been evacuated.  But just as I awoke in a panic, I somehow knew that someone in charge realized that the final check to ensure that everyone had debarked safely had not been made, so they were bringing the ship back up.  Fortunately, the insides of the ship where people and animals resided were water tight and had air in them.    Whew!

The second dream which woke me in a less than calm state involved a woman and a man that a friend and I had met on the beach.  They seemed nice enough until we discovered that we had a map they wanted (though of what, I never discovered), and that they intended to burn down a temple which overlooked the beach.  Running to escape them, they shot my friend in the back, he fell and was run over by a car.  I made it to the temple with what I thought was the map, but had lost some pages as I ran.  It took me awhile to find someone to listen to me, but I finally did and shared the story, warning him to beware of the two people. 

A third dream was a continuation of the second.  This time, I was in a hospital with my friend who had managed to survive both the gunshot wound and the car running over him.  I’m not sure how, but I knew that the couple we had run from were in the ER, being treated for gunshot wounds.  I finally got a doctor’s attention.  He sent a nurse over and told my friend to drink out of a water bottle which she would then offer to this couple so she could get fingerprints.  Although she wrapped the bottle in a towel, my friend touched the bottle which I had a very bad feeling about.  When the nurse returned, she said the couple had already left, though the man had been hurt pretty badly and was sitting in a wheelchair when I saw him.  I left my friend at the hospital and ran back to the temple, looking for the man who had helped me before.  Instead, I found a little memorial.   Apparently, he had been killed in a shootout where the two villains had been injured, and his wife had put up the memorial for him.   He was clearly a much beloved member of the congregation.  For some reason, when I saw his birth date, I was surprised to see that he was a year younger than me. 

At any rate, I shared my story with the rest of the people and asked if they knew who had shot him.  They showed me two heads (like the kind they display wigs on) which had been painted to look like the people who had shot their friend.   I told them it was the same people who had shot my friend and me, and that I’d just seen both at the hospital, but they’d disappeared again.  By now, all of the children and been moved deep inside the temple and armed guards were posted all around.  When I awoke from the dream, I felt confident that the two would either be apprehended or killed as I knew that, despite their wounds, they would come back and try again to destroy the temple.  Of course, my dreams would be nothing without a little comic relief.  While talking to the people about who had killed the man who had listened to me and believed my story, I noticed that everyone was armed and ready for a fight, and that most of the people I saw were elderly women who, frankly looked a lot more dangerous than their younger counterparts. 

Waking up for the last time, I lay there for awhile, wondering why I had had such disturbing dreams.  The only thing I could think of was that I’m starting to edit my novel today, and that I’m going to need some juicier scenes for the bad guys.  It will be interesting to see whether I can work a little violence and mayhem into the story as I rewrite.  Maybe drawing from weird dreams won’t be such a stretch!

I’m glad I got these down while they were still in my memory, because the editing process isn’t a quick one.  I got through 3 chapters and did some research yesterday.  But I’d rather go slowly and really tell the story as it needs to be told than to rush through it and end up with just another piece of garbage that nobody will read!

My last thought on this is:  Are weird dreams part of the writer’s lifestyle as imagination and reality see the lines between them blur?

My gratitudes today are:
1. I am grateful for my crazy imagination which manifests in dreams.
2. I am grateful for plate clearing, even if it doesn’t stay completely clear.
3. I am grateful for my cats who don’t believe in letting me sleep the day away.
4. I am grateful for coffee which I can always count on to help chase the cobwebs away when the cats wake me early.
5. I am grateful for a body in motion.

Love and light.

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