I’ve often wondered what the physical purpose of dreaming was. Not just the psychological reasons, or interpretation of my dreams, but scientifically why we dream.

Scientists believe that the act of sleeping is a rejuvenation: it allows our major body functions a chance to reset: blood sugar, immune functions, heart health. It allows muscles to repair, and digestion to continue. But scientists have yet to understand what the purpose of dreams may be. A Scientific American article from 2006 discusses how, when we are awake, our brain is processing many stimuli and experiences, and trying to make direct connections to these so we can process immediately. The theory is, in sleep, the brain is still processing, but in a much looser manner. It’s like grabbing a handful of change throughout the day, and, in sleep, sorting the quarters from the nickels and dimes, and throwing out the pennies. The residual effect of this “sleep sorting”, combined with our own histories and emotions, may be what manifest as dreams. When the emotions are simple or direct, the dream is, too. But as the emotions become more complex, so too does the dream.

There is a buddhist theory that anything we perceive in the waking world is not truly factual, because our awareness of these things is based on our own unique perception. Two people, looking at a bowl of spaghetti, for example, do not perceive the food exactly the same. Someone with a gluten allergy may perceive it as poison, while the other as a delicious meal. And, buddhism dictates, anything that changes meaning based on who encounters it doesn’t really exist, the bowls of spaghetti is a manifestation, and no more or less real than anything we see, feel or experience while sleeping.

I recently had a dream in which I was slowly dying. I hadn’t been injured, or sick, that I knew of. I just suddenly found breathing to be difficult. Chris and I went to a hospital, where they said my time was up, these things happen.

I sat in the waiting room, waiting for something, because I didn’t know how it was to end. Would they take me to a bed, would they do something to end my life, or would I just suddenly stop breathing and collapse wherever I was? I sat there, trying to make lists of what I needed to do before I took my last breath, but I couldn’t think of anything meaningful to do. Everything I regretted not doing took too long, and I didn’t have the time left. Too late to plan vacations to exotic places, too late even to call people I loved to tell them how much I loved them. Too late to tell friends how proud I was to know them, and how much I would miss them.

A nurse came over and called my name, and asked me to come with her. I stood and walked past dozen of strangers, thinking, “I’m dying and no one knows; no one sees that I’m dying. I just look like anyone else.”

I looked at a Chris, walking with me, his face completely unreadable. He wouldn’t look at me. He just kept looking ahead, afraid to look me in the eye. I was devastated that, with so little time left, he was spending it hiding his emotions, distancing himself from his pain.

We walked past endless people in what seemed to be a well-lit cafeteria of sorts. All sitting or standing around, doing nothing but waiting, not enjoying anything.

And I thought, “is there ever really enough time to do it all? How amazing it is that most of our life is spent waiting for the next thing, instead of doing everything we want, and enjoying every moment we have.”

And then I woke up. I was unsettled, but not haunted. I was able to get back to sleep fairly easily (after vigorously recording my dream on Facebook).

I’ve been thinking about my dream all day. Not because I am afraid I have a hidden ailment, but in trying to understand why I dream. How is it helping me? I know all the thoughts in my dream about spending my life waiting for the next thing is true. I constantly fear having missed out on some experience, or losing track of my purpose (whatever it might be) in the universe. But what conclusions or benefits do the act of dreaming, or even trying to understand the dream give to me? If the purpose is to subconsciously sort through my waking thoughts and experiences, isn’t it better to not dwell on any hidden meaning, and just let it go, let my subconscious sort it, label what it chooses, discard the rest, and spend my waking time living and sharing and loving?

Dreams are illustrations… from the book your soul is writing about you. 

Marsha Norman