Psychic Editing

I’m not sure what the job description is for a Gramma, but I doubt if it includes living room soccer. I am too old for this! Still it was crazy and fun and I found myself both exhausted and laughing like a four year old when I finally fell into the recliner! With a little luck, my dreams tonight will be pointlessly silly.

I’ve been thinking about dreams a lot lately, since I’ve been having almost back to back nightmarish ones for the past week or so. I admit that I am easily influenced by things. A video game where the phoenix bursts into flames can be transformed into a nightmare of extraordinary terror. A simple story about alligators not eating the people they kill is turned into personal adventures with a twist.

Whatever little thing grabs hold of my attention is often replayed with great operatic fanfare in my dreams. Drama is my middle name when it comes to imagination. The odd exception is that I seldom have long lovely dreams about being with people I love, or care deeply about. It’s almost as if my psyche refuses to allow me that kind of connection because it knows that it would be deeply addicting. I might never wake up.

After all, life seldom reaches the standards of my imagination, or dreams. It has on a few occasions and those are times that set the standards for the rest of my life. I will never forget them, but to live that way forever? Maybe it wouldn’t be as lovely as I imagine, but I sure wouldn’t mind trying and I would settle for dreams if I can’t have the reality.

In the meantime, perhaps I will dream I am the next Pele, playing for a team of very short people, kicking an orange soccer ball that floats through the air, and landing a goal that sets the crowds to roaring!