A woman at work just dropped by and said she had dreamt that I was a hockey star last night. She was part of a team who were watching me play and wondering why I wasn’t a professional hockey player.
I would like to think that dreams are doorways into alternate universes and that there is a ‘me’ out there that can skate.
On the note of dreams, they are funny creatures. Let’s take this example – I don’t even really know this woman but she has a dream of me. Why is that? Why does our mind plant images into scenarios? Is it all random? Is there a higher power at work?
iplaying: – The Dartmouth Soundsystem – Matt Mays (…When The Angels Make Contact)