I woke up this morning from a bilingual dream. I was visiting the home of an old friend, someone I went to Africa with. I went to his house and the door was open. I went inside, and called out to see if anyone was home. I had not seen my friend in many years and he did not tell me if he was living alone or with people. It turned out he was still living at home in his parents’ house. His younger brother came running. He stared at me with wide eyes. I said hello in French. He turned around and ran deeper into the house. A few minutes later, my friend’s mother came and greeted me. I explained who I was, and she told me that my friend had warned he would be late coming back from work. We sat together in the living room, talking about everything and nothing. At first the conversation was entirely in French, but then the mother changed and we started to speak in English. She showed me photos and albums of my friend as a child and as an adult. The little brother came back to the room and started playing a game with me. Other family members started to arrive, along with friends. Unfortunately I woke up before my friend came home. Funny dream.
I used to record my dreams, years ago. I got to over a thousand and at that point I decided that I would take a break. I have been thinking that I might start writing them down again and sharing them here. Sometimes they are boring sometimes they make no sense, but they are almost always incredibly detailed and I think it would be nice to keep track of the stories that my brain is telling me while I am in lala land.
There is, of course, a great deal written about dreams, ways to interpret them, symbology and effort put into understanding what they mean. To some extent I am also curious to know what the reason is for my brain to throw up and out what it does sometimes, but mostly, I just look at them all as stories waiting to be shared. So, I am going to. For a time anyway.