Hot Nights, Mad Dreams

Getting to sleep during a heatwave can be a challenge. However, I manage to sleep by having a large fan at the end of the bed, which cools me off enough to allow me to go straight to sleep.

But the heat seems to affect my sleep in other ways, by making my mind search deep inside my brain to retrieve long-forgotten memories. Those memories appear as dreams, and I don’t realise they are things that actually happened until I have been awake for a few minutes. They are also jumbled-up, out of sequence, not following any definite pattern.

I am stroking a dog that is lying on the pavement, and the dog rolls over to show me its belly. When I turn around, I am on a beach in France, aged around sixteen. The sand is too hot to walk on, so I am struggling to put on the shoes that I had just taken off.

My first wife is swimming in heavy waves, and I am watching her from a rock that I am sitting on. Then someone comes to get me and tells me we have to go to an emergency call in the ambulance that is parked nearby. When I get in the vehicle, I am wearing my EMT uniform, and the sea and my swimming wife are nowhere to be seen.

Queuing at a van to buy ice creams. There is a pier in the distance, and lots of parked cars. It might be the resort town of Brighton. Then my dad (who I have not seen since I was 24 and is long dead) taps me on the shoulder. He tells me he wants chocolate sauce on his ice cream, and I nod. When I return with the ice creams, he is nowhere to be found.

Driving a left-hand drive car. From the road signs I know I am in Turkey, and I am alone in the car. I get a bit lost and end up in a village. Then I am shocked to see men ahead, forming a roadblock and pointing rifles at me. They are unmistakably Taliban fighters. They pull me from the car, frog-march me into a small room, and one takes a photo of me on a mobile phone.

The noise of pigeons wakes me up. I walk over to the bedroom window and open the curtains. Outside, there are thousands of Wood Pigeons, covering every surface. I close the curtains and go back to bed.

Then I wake up, relieved it is all a dream. I can understand the memories, the pigeons, the beach references, even my dad showing up.

But the Taliban in Turkey? That one is a mystery.

32 thoughts on “Hot Nights, Mad Dreams

  1. Pete, more people have dreams than will let on & most would not dare say what they dream about. I’ve had both bizarre & vivid dreams since I was young too. I’m told that when we sleep we go into a hypnotic state so suggestions as seen, heard, experienced or imagined become real. Then there are nightmares.
    I came back from London with those & still have them to this day.
    An associate I remained in contact with in London suggested having dreams involving a pretend person & your interactions with them. It works.
    As also common, other of my dreams these days is problem solving, where you sort an issue out & role play it as real.
    Many songs are written as the author was dreaming & woke up to record it down. I give 3 different song examples where this happened & lyrically they are genius = The Pennywhistle Augie March where Glenn Richards summarises depression, Some Such Foolishness Tommy Roe about a dream of someone you saw that you would like to be real, The Bright Blue Rose Jimmy MacCarthy about one dying & their spirituality flashing before their eyes. There is no way you could write those lyrics awake!
    Remember, dreams are free!

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  2. Dreams can be mystifying. I can usually remember them when I wake up but unless I make a point of holding on to the memory, they vanish like mist. Mostly I can figure out where they come from but like your Taliban chaps, sometimes there is no sense to it!

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  3. Congratulations! Thanks to the Achilles Travel Agency, you’ve just won a free trip to Troy! You’ll be flown to Bursa, where Taliban Rental has a beautiful Fiat Doblรฒ waiting for you. A short road trip of 210 miles will bring you to the legendary city, where you will be invited to enjoy free pony rides!

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