FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 2024 - DREAMS

 FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 2024 - DREAMS

All humans dream at night.  There might be some that don’t dream (I heard that heavy alcohol consumption may limit dreams.

Many of my dreams (at least those I can remember when I wake up) relate to my teaching career.  After thirty-eight years in college and another seven in high school, teaching was my life and livelihood. 

In one dream last week, it was the back-to-school faculty meeting, and I was mentoring a new bunch of international faculty on getting published in academic journals.  We had some new Asian faculty members with recent doctorate degrees who were clueless about how to get published.  

A recurring dream (almost a nightmare) is two weeks to the end of the semester, and I discovered that I had one section (class) that I hadn’t met since the first week of the semester.  Something had happened (maybe COVID?), and I had forgotten about them.  With two weeks left, I had to teach a semester's worth of material in two weeks.  (It was an introductory programming class).  

Another recurring dream is on a large old campus (think Yale, Harvard, or Princeton), and I got lost getting back to my faculty office.  The old buildings looked alike.  It was also a little like Hogwarts but with elevators - and I got lost.  

In my dreams, I’ve also taught on a large, newer campus. The buildings were similar (but not old - like a dream above this).  I also remember going through a beautiful art museum and going to Mass on this campus. 

A recent dream was that I was at an academic conference in Oklahoma City - but this Oklahoma City was more like a 40,000 population community instead of the 700,000 from the census.  We’re at a Holiday Inn - but it is an older hotel and lacks some of the amenities that the conference was used to.  I was the outgoing person I always was at conferences. 

Another academic dream. It is the start of a new academic year - and all the faculty from the School of Business are crammed into a small classroom. (I'm not sure why - maybe a new building isn't finished yet.

And one that was strange and almost a nightmare.  A chiropractor asked me to house-sit while he was gone.  Then he said, beware of kids that want to take over the house.  So, as I was watching out the window, there was a long 1959 convertible car with six kids driving past and stopped in the driveway.  One came to the door and wanted in.  I said no, but the others had broken in through the back door.  I tried to get them out but was unsuccessful.  They even took my phone so that I couldn’t call for help.  They took over the examination rooms and used them as bedrooms. 

*****

I have mentioned that I visited a ninety-seven-year-old lady in a nursing home in Georgetown.  She had an active life as an artist, an art teacher, having her studio, and a MENSA person.  She had a minor stroke some time back, and that has limited her speech.  (She can talk, but very rarely she does talk).

There are times when my friend is “not with me.” Her face is contorted. I think she dreams (or daydreams) of the days when she was a successful artist and teacher.  I wonder what is going through her head.  She has memories that are deep in her brain.  She can’t talk about them, but I’m guessing she is questioning why she is in a nursing home and can’t do the things she used to do. She remembers the paintings and the experiences she and her family enjoyed.  

I then wonder if I am getting like that.  As mentioned above, many of my dreams are about my career.  If I live until 97 (like her), will my memories overtake my reality? Will I be living in my dreams and not in my current reality? 

What happens to the senior brain when our meaningful work ends?  What happens to our memories? 

I’ve heard a few seniors say, “I’m praying for God to come for me.” (my mother for one of those.) 

Keep loving, keep learning, and keep active.

LOVE WINS

LOVE TRANSFORMS

Karen Anne White ©, February 23, 2024

(I know I am older.  Acts 2:17, “Your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams.” (I’m assuming old men and old women are the same))