Monday, August 13, 2007

Dreams of Golden Dust

It was a very strange dream. Even as I write this, wisps and silver strands, cobwebby corners still occupy my mind. I've never had a dream this vivid or this real in recent times - if at all - and the thing was, it didn't feel like a dream. One of my best friends once said that I dream like a writer - with narrative cohesion and with a sense of logic and rationale. I suppose what she says is true, but even I never realized it until this morning.

I dreamt about my wedding.

It felt like a montage of scenes - and these were moments when things felt like snapshot clippings, or pages ruffled over. I'm not sure who the guy was, and I don't want to assume, but I know we got married because we had to. Not because I got knocked up, thankfully, but there was something that happened (I don't quite remember) and we were both very calm and practical about it. And then there was that series of images of having to tell families and friends, of choosing the details (I don't even remember my dress! All I know is that it was cream and beautiful), of being very zen about the entire thing.

I remember, though, the day of the wedding. It was an early evening ceremony, which meant that we spent much of the day at my grandmother's house before everyone had to pile off to the church. I remember people - family members and helpers, especially, who had been in our family for a long time - giving me funny gifts: certificates to a motel, a gym membership to lose weight after I give birth to the first child (oh how he laughed at that - he knows how I feel about gyms). I remember the sun-filled afternoon where I saw him sitting on the guest room bed, his head in his hands, and how I went to him and held his hand and told him that if he didn't want to do this, it was all right, and that he would be the better man for it. And how he looked at me in the eyes and said that this felt right, for some weird reason, even though he didn't love me the same way I loved him, that this decision felt right.

And then I remember going outside to the garden, and the children, my cousins and nieces and nephews, were playing and running around, and someone tapped me on the shoulder and gave me a packet of golden dust and he said that it was to make everything better. And someone - I vaguely remember Camila, who was a bridesmaid in the ceremony, taking the golden dust from my hands and opening the packet and suddenly, the entire air was filled with particles of dust, glinting and glowing in the late afternoon sunlight, and how the children started shrieking and giggling, and even the grown-ups held out their hands to catch just a bit of the dust. And I remember his smile, and it was from ear to ear, and he just looked at me, his hands in his pockets, his head and shoulders lightly covered with the golden dust like a halo, a glimmering aura. And it was then that I knew that he was for me, and that this was, at the end of all things, the right thing to do.

Things went into slow motion, as if the camera decided to focus on details and movement, and then someone - I think it was my mother - who whispered in my ear, "It's time." And suddenly, everything and everyone was silent, as if someone had switched a tap, and then I felt myself wake up, the echo of laughter lingering in my head, the shadow of his smile just behind my eyes.

I don't always dream, and for people who have known my dream patterns for some time now know that I deliberately forget my dreams - a trauma from long-ago made me decide to do that, and apparently, it still carries on to today. I also know that much of my dreams consist of small things: a phone conversation, stories over coffee, mundane actions of everyday life. I have never dreamed this richly or this vividly in years. I also know that much of my so-called mundane dreams have a tendency of stepping over the boundaries from my head to my life, and so...

If this dream is from the Gates of Horn, where the true dreams come, then Morpheus should be thanked. I'm not sure what the universe is trying to tell me, but for some reason, even though I only had a handful of hours of sleep, that I had to force myself to sleep, I feel strangely...okay.

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