Last night was the last night of the Muslim fasting, and as darkness fell in the evening, prayers were offered via the very noisy loudspeakers perched atop of the mosques minarets, and even more noisy firework were being let off, booming like I have never heard before.
Fireworks were still being let off well after midnight, and even more prayers were started to be broadcast via the minarets starting a good ten minutes after the clock struck twelve. I think their watches must be slow, why start ten minutes after midnight?
But I was tired, and sleep soon took me away into its arms, to a Never Never Land of make believe.
I knew I was dreaming very vivid dreams, as I was consciously aware of the dreams taking place even in my sleep, it was as if I was awake knowing that a story was unfolding in my dreams, and I was happy.
At 4:05 am, another loud bang, rattling the whole bedroom, coming from yet another firework waking me up, my poor heart thumping with shock and my body aching from an overly hard bed. Some of these blasts could not be from shop bought fireworks as the blasts were too deep and the sound wave too big and penetrating. I am told they are home made. Interesting as I do not know of many people who can make explosives.
As I lay there, calming myself down, I tried to recall my dreams only minutes before I had been enjoying. Nothing, except I knew it had involved an ex girlfriend called Liz, (was her name Elizabeth Drew?), from the days when I was a young schoolboy, where certain urges were there, but what those urges meant, I had no idea at the time.
What were we doing in those dreams I had had?
They were not naughty, I knew that much, I know I could have shared the story-line with my mother, and I knew there had been a proper story-line, a good one. But, nothing came to mind of the dream.
Yet, other memories came flooding back as I lay there of actual events that happened, many, many years ago, of me hiding under the dining table one evening when I had visited Liz at her parents house, why I did that I have no idea, of me missing band practice so I could watch Star Trek on her parents TV, and walking with her around the water’s of Chasewater, a large reservoir near our home town. But, nothing about the contents of the dream I had just awoken from.
Other actual memories came flooding back too, of long lost girlfriends, of days when I was so innocent and naive, and so young. Paula Dawes from my college days, then the girl whose name eludes me, on the number 5 Walsall bus every morning and night, with her long straight red hair, we never dated but we were very close, and the girl I had my first real kiss with at a Xmas Party for the Lichfield Junior Accident Prevention Committee, sorry did I ever know your name?
Still nothing about my dream content.
I know I dreamt, but I cannot remember.
Often in my courses as we discuss what are dreams and why do we sleep, participants will say that they never dream. I disagree. Just because we cannot remember something happening, does not mean it never happened. We all dream.
Brains are designed to forget, to erase information, thy are designed to sleep, to dream, from the smallest of living beings, say the fruit fly, through mice, fish, whales, cats and dogs on to humans, without sleep and dreams we would be overwhelmed by information and the brain would die.
But, I would still like to recall my dream.
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