Often my dreams will cut away to a birdseye view of the scene. Sometimes that is scary because I feel like I am being hurled through space …. other times it is lovely as I am simply floating peacefully above whatever is unfolding below. Overall, I would say I enjoy that my mind does this for me, allowing me to see things from another angle.
Last night's dream began like many others with me wandering the twisting streets of an historic village. I usually believe I am in Spain, but that's rarely confirmed.
This dream placed me in a bewitching evening scene with large white lights hanging from the trees and a warm breeze in the summer air. People were laughing and moving together in one glorious wave of movement.
My male companion in this dream changed randomly and often. At times it was my husband, then an old high school crush, then a stranger …. there was really no rhyme or reason to his identity, he was just taking me to see a street comedian and I wasn't thrilled about it because I was certain it would be a hypnotist.
The streets were extremely crowded and I was becoming irritated with all the walking and winding and bumping into people. We had abandoned the vehicle believing we could make better progress on foot, but I really just wanted to sit down and not be trampled.
I flashed to an overhead view and it really was lovely. The crowd far less annoying and unorganized from this angle and my mood cheered considerably.
However, to my right I noticed a dinner party happening on a delightful, romantic, patio with beautiful paper lanterns and charming people tittering and story-telling. They were my friends! I was immediately jealous and sad. Why were they having a wonderful party without me? Why wasn't I invited?
My companion took me over to the party against my protests and I ran into my friend, Jenn, on the street with a pink bakery box and a beautiful smile. She seemed genuinely surprised to see me. “Oh”, she said, “I bought this amazing bread!” I looked into the box and saw what looked like 5 or 6 half-eaten large pretzels and many, many crumbs and loose sesame seeds. “Come on in”, she said, “there's plenty of food!”
But there wasn't plenty of food. There were some pretzel remnants and weak Kool-Aid. My friend, Ric, was there and he told me not to feel stupid, “If you put a rock on a cloth napkin, it tastes just like a beignet.”
I must have wandered off again, back into the crowd just for a moment. I turned back to the party and saw my friends on the street doing some organized Bollywood dance routine.
Again, I felt sad and jealous. I wanted to dance! Jenn was wearing a grey and black tunic over grey tights and I knew that she had put a lot of effort into the look but I couldn't help noticing it was so incredibly drab next to the gorgeous Bollywood dancers. But her smile was as brilliant as the bright green scarf she was waving above her head and I was touched and heartbroken simultaneously.
Again, I flashed to an aerial view and became unbelievably despondent as I noticed the entire village slowly, slowly sinking into the sea.