Boring Dreams

What Does It All Mean?

Did I ever write to you all about my dreams? No? Do you know why I never have? Because I rarely dream and when I do they are the absolute most boring, draggy, dreams you can imagine.

Once, I dreamt about sitting and reading. No exaggeration.

One other time, I was at my old aunt’s house back in Buffalo and was helping her paint a room.

I had a dream once where I spilled a plate of rice and spent the dream picking one piece of rice up after another and putting it back in the dish.

I thought of this today because yesterday I had a dream where I lost my luggage. On a train. I was taking a train from New York to Boston - not an Amtrak but some kind of tram-like bus train. My one rolling piece of luggage was too big to fit under the seat so the conductor took it and shoved it into a compartment near the front of the tram.

But when I was getting off, the luggage was gone. So I had to go and fill out a form at a desk where I was asked what was in the luggage, and I wrote down jeans, socks, bathroom stuff.

Then I woke up. That was it, and I don’t think much of dreams like this because that’s pretty common for me. No sky-diving or car crashes, or falling off buildings. No being chased, no abstract strange stuff. No scares. Just, like, vacuuming or something.

So anyway, I usually don’t share that because I have a secret fear that if my dreams are boring, maybe that means I’m boring. But then again, maybe being boring is a good thing - stability, calm seas, nothing too crazy.

Is being mindful boring? Or maybe because I’m mindful, my dreams are too.

I don’t know. Anybody out there know anything about dreams. Am I boring because I dream about sitting on a couch typing on my laptop? Hang on, am I dreaming now?

Somebody pinch me!