By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo

 

THERE are days when I have no dreams. There are days when I knew I had a dream but couldn’t remember. These days, I dream a lot, and remember every detail, almost. The memory of a dream is very vivid upon waking up, so I take the time, at this point, to write whatever I saw, or felt or smelled, tasted, heard or sensed. In high school, I used to keep a Dream Book, a record of the dreams I am able to remember. I still do.

All humans dream, and many animals as well, though not everyone can remember.  Most people dream about life experiences and concerns, they mirror our fears, aspirations, or uncannily, present solutions to our “real-world” problems. Some dreams are prophetic. In ancient times, dreams “were considered a supernatural communication or a means of divine intervention whose message could be interpreted by people with these associated spiritual powers.” Today, various schools of psychology and neurobiology continue to research on dreams, its meaning and purpose. One theory suggests that dreams help the brain predict its own future states. Another suggests that dreams are necessary to regulate human emotions. I believe dreams exist for us to get in touch with our inner selves, or glimpse our other selves.

I made a record of a dream I had on the 28th of November in a poem, “Catching a dream, catching me”. The comments were enriching, but also highlighted the fact that no one, not even the experts in the scientific community, can fully fathom the reasons for the existence of dreams, or its meanings, in the backdrop of the diversity of human experiences, and the uniqueness of their essence.

Lino Aldana thinks, “Sometimes dreams are just that — with meanings lost among disjointed and surreal images as in a Dali’s paintscape. It’s at waking that one catches an essence of a dream, ephemeral and wispy that soon vanishes as dreams do.” Babu Simon Louis commented, “Surrealistic.”  Indeed, dreams can be surreal. They can be another reality, in addition to our “real” existence. We will never know, given the limitations of our human capacity and understanding.

 

“Catching a dream, catching me”

three big letters E U R
written on a wide, white wall
so many letters, unintelligible
jumbled, on the opposite wall
asemic, curling
a ladies’ room, naked and bare
nothing to sit on
a wide street, a big white house
my sister Emma
my niece Jam
three guests, glued their feet
afraid to step
on marble tiles, filled
with dancing egg yolks
a glimpse of another world
a dream,
or, am I the dream?

Did the egg yolks learn
there is a world beyond the egg white
and broke free … dancing
to freedom?
or are we
someone’s dream?

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