The Gift of Dreams*

In response to #TheDailyPost’s writing prompt: “Bedtime Stories,” I’m sharing (again) a post about the book I received as a pre-teen, and which had a profound influence on my life as a dreamer! I hope you’ll share your dreamy #BedtimeStory, too!

All the Snooze That's Fit to Print

At age 13, I received a gift from my grandfather: several books including a paperback copy of Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams. He gave it to me because he knew how much I loved dreams, but it was too difficult for me—or maybe it just wasn’t saying what I wanted to hear about dreams.

Freud

I danced around my interest in dreams for decades. Sometimes I’d pay attention to mine and write every one down. Then I’d go through periods of trying to ignore them. After all, no one else I knew was talking about their dreams, and besides, some of my dreams were scary or disturbing. But they were still present, even in their absence. Whereas some people claim they don’t dream in color, I feel I don’t live in color when my dreams are muted.

So, eventually I decided I wanted to know more about them. About a decade ago, I gave myself another gift:…

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