My Dreamscape

Every night for as long as I can remember, I have looked forward to the moments right before I fall asleep where I visit what I call my Dreamscape. In the vast emptiness that is my mind, a trial complete with me playing both judge and jury blossoms. Every debated concept and question there was no time for during the day is now allowed to step forward and present their cases.

The first is a princess complete with jeweled tiara and doe-eyed gaze. She’s begging me to help her understand why I no longer have a place for her. The answer to that is simple: I tell her it isn’t her I don’t have time for, it is the ideals she represents that no longer serve a more mature version of myself. Her happy ending does not fulfill me anymore like it once did. However, she is not gone; instead, questions of what happens after happily ever after keep her in my thoughts.

I watch next as none other than Albus Dumbledore emerges from her shadow. He wants to know whether I consider him a good or bad person. This one is tricky; although he once represented an idealistic father figure and the epitome of good, as I grow older, his misguided help poses the question: should all advice be taken blindly? No. These arguments help me mediate conflict in everyday life. Confronting the reality of a situation makes it easier to understand and decipher than turning a blind eye to different sides.

The room clears and next a beautiful peacock prances forward confidently, poised to argue over the concept of who is more free: humans or animals? My philosophical side jumps to attention. Although humans inherently assume themselves dominant over creatures, are we not slaves to our own technology and choices? Do we not associate freedom with choice? This thinking allows me to be resourceful where others are ignorant. By seeing value in what others may see as useless, I can turn any project or opportunity into something accomplished by taking advantage of what others discard.

Finally, it all quiets and a new kind of case creeps in slowly to the now bleak Dreamscape. Was the answer 3pi or 3pi/2? Did I stutter in my presentation? Was I paying enough attention during history? One after another, they barrage me until it is almost too much to handle at once. Although the room is filled with warring arguments, my gaze is drawn to the girl in the center of it all. She is me, and I find myself turning my judgment on her, on myself, and all at once, the roles are reversed. She forces my mind through each scenario, each problem, each decision I made that day in painful, magnifying detail. She asks me to judge myself, to find an answer to the underlying question: Did I do enough today?

All day, there is no time to debate with my perfectionistic side, but it finds its place when the Dreamscape is at its most quiet and of course, I give it the time it needs to gain control. It may be hard, but I need to hear it. I let it find its own peace so that I can find success the next day.

At some point I never seem to remember, the world of the Dreamscape finally fades away, and I succumb to the siren calls of sleep. The next morning, tiaras, peacocks, and integrals float through my mind during my history presentation and on my way to math, I spy a bright white beard disappearing around a corner, and the voice of Albus Dumbledore is suddenly back in my head. He tells me, “it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live” and once again, I simply smile and think to myself, that’s where you’re wrong old man, my dreams help me live.