Dreams may often be bizarre – but what was bizarre about this one is I almost
never have any dreams. I was walking a dog. I think it was my daughter's dog
Kayleigh, somewhere (like most dreams the memories are fragmentary) and
then I was taking some post cards out of a box to show someone, and when I came
to put them back the box had vanished. A wild search followed, should I call the
police, should I tell the university authorities, and where was Kayleigh?
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| London Bus with Picture Post Advert |
However the subject of the dream really didn't matter. As a child I had vivid
nightmares of a huge monster which prowled the streets and could eat you up. For
anyone who lived in London during the war they would have taken the “monster”
for granted, but as a 5 year old who had been brought up in rural Somerset I had
never seen a double decker bus before – much less one with huge eyes. Perhaps
this experience, at a formative stage, “convinced” my brain that dreaming (at
least with visual images) was something to be avoided.
So
why did I dream last night? It could have been that I took more exercise than
usual (a 2 mile walk to the swimming pool (40 lengths) followed immediately by
half a mile to the supermarket and half an hour pushing a trolley. Well I was
tired but I don't think that was the main cause.





