Last night I had very vivid dreams.
In one of them I was sitting in a friend’s house, in a new addition, hanging out for a long time, when my friend tells me that this used to be the patio in back of his house that he enclosed. I was genuinely shocked. Astonished. Surprised. I had not seen this coming (I know it makes no sense to be so emotionally attached to the integrity of a patio, but it is a dream.)
This is not the first time this has happened in a dream of mine, where a truth is revealed that is surprising, that I did not see coming.
Here’s the question — since I am not only the person viewing the dream, but I am also the author of the story — how is it that I am so surprised? How does one part of myself keep the other part in the dark?
I read this on Dave Winer’s blog. It’s worth sharing. It’s not often I read something that I had not thought about before in any way, shape or form. Which is funny, because like every other person who’s ever lived, I’ve had some pretty vivid dreams too. Normally, I spend most of my mental strength trying to remember what they were about. I never stopped to think about the mechanics of a dream long enough to wonder how I can surprise/shock/scare myself. I’m fairly certain that there is no definitive answer to the question. That’s fine. Like any good question, there should always be more new questions than answers. But if anyone has a reasoned explanation, or even an entertaining explanation, then go ahead and tell it.