Do We Dream for a Reason?

St. Helena dreamed of 
finding the true cross.

Clearing off the kitchen table this morning, I came across several Mass cards for my sister Jeanne who died on July 25th. Death, I think, has a way of reminding one of all the losses in life -- not just losses through death, but losses through moving and losing touch, estrangements over disagreements, loss of jobs or health or dreams. It's so easy to become despondent and discouraged over all life's losses. 

I'm a melancholic so I tend to remember all the painful and sad events of life -- all my mistakes and regrets. For years, I dreamed about things that happened in high school that brought me to tears. Here I was a young mom with a growing family and those sad events, that I never thought of during waking hours, continued to intrude on my sleep. For what purpose I ask myself now. 

Do we dream for a reason? And why do all the dreams I have tend to be negative? Does my melancholic temperament explain it? At best my dreams are neutral. I'm stripping wallpaper and the paper underneath is identical to what I'm stripping. But often I'm in a car and can't remember where I'm going or someone else is driving.  Sometimes I'm in a vehicle like Fred Flintstone's that I have to operate with my feet. After those dreams I wake up exhausted and thankful for modern transportation. In many dreams, I've lost something, my purse or my wallet. Sometimes I find it again occasionally with someone helping me. I rarely have nightmares. In fact, when I'm having a bad dream my unconscious self tells me, "This is just a dream," so I never moan in my sleep or cry out or wake up in a panic. My husband, on the other hand, occasionally has nightmares and I have to wake him up.

Monday Morning: Another Week to Serve the Lord

Give up a glass of wine with dinner?

My thoughts are all over the place this morning -- this very early morning. Sleep and I have become strangers. Last week I had multiple four-hour nights. It reminded me of Fr. John Hardon, that zealous Jesuit beloved by so many, who rarely slept more than four hours a night. His superior had to order him to do that.

When I ask myself why I'm having sleep issues again, I remember how negligent I am at voluntary penance. I generally practice temperance, but fasting? Give up that Hershey kiss or that glass of Merlot with dinner? Well...maybe I can give it up for the next thirty minutes.

Praising God for a Good Night's Sleep!

These days waking up rested is not my default position. Since Sunday I've had three nights with 4-5 hours of sleep. I'm not complaining, mind you, just stating a fact. Do you ever think about what a blessing it is to have a good night's sleep? And do you ever get up and thank God for the blessing of a peaceful night taking a break from the pressure-cooker of life? I always say my morning offering, but it's only when I'm not sleeping that I appreciate what a gift sleep is.

Some quotes on sleep: