Grown Up Nightmares
As an adult, why do bad dreams still scare so thoroughly? Granted, they happen less frequently as you age, but they still carry a lot of bite. That feeling of terror, and the inevitability of something heading toward disaster seem written into every screenplay. Heck, once in a blue moon I still wonder if a monster may be under the bed. If only it were Sully from Monsters Inc!
Dreaming is a strange part of life. Some people see a lot of meaning in this nighttime endeavor. Others believe dreams to be utter hogwash. A random, useless collection of thoughts to be forgotten. I heard a comedian liken dreaming to a couple of broom sweeps brushing through the cluttered space in your brain each night. “Can you believe what he did today?” they would say as they toss all the loose memories and disposable thoughts into a large garbage pail.
I’m not sure where I land on the importance of dreams. I do, however, remember mine in vivid detail. At least for the first part of the morning. They are usually long, intricate scenes with thick plots. Sometimes I feel tired from all the wacky adventures with random characters from TV shows or kids I went to school with. Most of them are pretty harmless, and forgotten by the time my coffee cup is empty (or ready for a refill) each morning.
Unfortunately, sometimes the dreams turn sour. Like the first snow of the year, I can’t really predict when this is going to happen. I stopped enjoying scary movies a while ago, and never got into the horror genre to begin with. My brain is pretty spongy, so I try to abstain from disturbing art. I had my moments with The Blair Witch Project and The Ring, but I’ll tell you about those specific movies, and the terrifying drive home into the deep woods in a future story.
Thankfully, history and real life current events don’t cloud my mind or make it difficult to keep calm. It’s only funky art that ever gives me nightmares, and I can avoid that easily enough. I have to give it to my mind though, because it found a frustrating workaround. I had a dream the other night that was truly terrifying. It wasn’t about a clown or burglar, it was based on a real fear. A situation that would cause a panic attack if it actually happened.
The dream centered on a fireplace chimney, built by yours truly, that began to sink. Eventually, it collapsed and tore off the side of the house. I can honestly say that this would be the most nightmarish thing to happen to a mason. In the dream, I put in the work to ensure that I had built everything correctly, but it wouldn’t hold. The homeowner, and contractor were there too, watching as the side of the building fell.
As I awoke, I had that immediate sensation that it had actually happened. And I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t understand how I had made such a colossal mistake. Slowly, it dawned on me that it was just a nightmare, a projection of a bad thought that had found legs enough to run through my mind as I lay asleep in my bed. But it still bothered me. I couldn’t believe that a fake mental version of myself had done that. I was mad at the mere idea of it.
Whoever flipped on that movie in my mind, well, go away. You suck, and I don’t like you. I don’t want to imagine myself not taking my job seriously.
As I sit here reflecting a week later, I have to chuckle. It’s funny how much that stupid dream worked me up. And since I always try to find a positive spin on life’s lame parts, here’s what I came up with. To be nervous about what you do is a good thing. I was just reading about Bill Russell, one of the greatest basketball players of all time. He won 11 titles in 13 years. Apparently, he threw up before all big games, especially in the playoffs. Why? Because it mattered so much. I’ve also heard about some of the most famous rock stars who still shake from nervousness before walking onto a stage to thunderous applause.
When you care, you feel fear. Arrogance isn't the foundation of greatness, it’s the desire to do something incredible knowing that you may fail spectacularly. John McEnroe, the tennis player famous for yelling, “You cannot be serious,” once said that he hated losing more than the joy of winning. The fear of failure was his greatest motivator.
After careful consideration, I see that the dream carried so much weight because it’s a real fear. What if something I build doesn’t stand the test of time? What if it falls apart? Even worse, what if my failure negatively impacted someone else’s home? This is my shaking with nervousness, my purging before the big game. I want to create great art through my stonework, but I also need my work to hold up.
I’m glad for that introspection, and for that feeling. Although I hope my mind can find a better way to share these kinds of insights that don’t involve me awakening in the middle of the night in a panic. In the future, just send a mental memo during regular business hours please.
