Saturday, September 20, 2008

Last Night I Dreamt of Mexico

Today, I’m going to do something I’ve never done before. I’m going to post about the dreams I had last night. Well, actually, I’m only posting about one of them, but they ran in sequence. The other two were simply gibberish that don’t need to be pressed onto paper. In my dream, I was in Mexico….

I was driving an older style Land Rover type of vehicle which I clearly knew was my own. I also knew it was a long story on how I acquired it. As I was driving along—apparently without a particular destination, I rounded a bend and suddenly I realized where I was, for I’d been to this place before. It was a semi-arid dessert environment. The road wound its way through foothills and small canyons. As I drove into a narrow canyon, I knew what I would find on the other side…and I was excited by it.

When I saw the simple Mexican village, I recognized a particular hotel. It was very old, at least from the mid 1880’s, and was large—too large for the village. The walls were whitewashed adobe, but not the familiar Santa Fe style construction.

I was so familiar with this little village that I knew where to park and exactly where the registration desk was in the hotel. I made a beeline to the counter and waited my turn to check in. However, I knew I wasn’t going to stay there. While I waited for the Anglo couple in front of me to finish reregistering, I returned to my previous memories of this hotel. I recognized the familiar lobby, and the large, comfortable sitting area which was reminiscent of an outdoor patio. It was very pleasant to be back in this hotel. I remembered staying there with a friend of mine from my seminary days, Kyle. Yet when I tried to pin that memory down, it became elusive, as if I was trying to keep dandelions from escaping on a windy day.

Now, I realized I was dreaming. I kept repeating the name of the village over and again so I could remember to Google it. I even envisioned Googling the name and I can still see a scramble of letters as I typed them into the search engine. Finally, my turn at the counter. The kind, older gentleman spoke to me in English. I told him I wanted to know if he had any rooms available. Even while I was asking him, I knew I wasn’t going to stay there that day. I was only asking so I could come back with my family and we could enjoy a weekend together. He fumbled through the register book and told me he thought the place was full. I then explained to him it wasn’t a big deal, because I still had two hours of day light to keep driving, and that I didn’t think I was going to stay the night. Then I repeated the name of the village so I could remember it when I woke. At that point, I knew my dream was ending, so I asked the clerk to tell me how much the rooms were, so I could budget my return trip, but the dream faded and I was in a different dream entirely.

Well, now that I’m awake, I know that I never set foot in that hotel—but, at the same time, I am absolutely certain that I’ve been there before in my dreams. I can no longer remember the name of that village, but I can see letters that don’t make sense. Remembering those letters is something like trying to drive using your peripheral vision. I am absolutely certain that Kyle and I never stayed at that hotel. So then, how do I account for such a vivid familiarization with that place in Mexico? Now, I’m not even certain I was in Mexico, because it could have been from some of my other adventures in Argentina.
I wish hypnotism wasn’t so dangerous, because I’d seek out the location of that village. I know it’s there. I know it exists somewhere. But, how do I know it? What’s most frustrating about this dream is that I have suffered memory loss as a result of some surgery I’ve had in the past. I can’t account for what memories I have lost. I simply know I used to know something, but that memory no longer exists. Perhaps the village is a memory I’ve lost; but somehow that doesn’t seem right, either. Aurgh!
Well, thanks for letting me waste a perfectly good post on absolutely nothing. I promise I won’t do this again anytime soon. I have another short story to share with you one day next week. Until then, thanks for visiting!


Amy Deardon said...

Will, what a whimsical and interesting dream! You have a corner of a memory now, and maybe it'll come back at some point. It reminds me of trying to remember a song from just a few bars you hear -- or worse, hearing a different song that reminds you of the other one. Would love to hear what comes of this (if anything...) It sounds like a good memory.

Alison Bryant said...

I love it when dreams are like that, even if it's frustrating. It's great to realize you're dreaming, and have it still take you for a ride.
(waxing philosophical, hang with me...) Kinda reminds me of what heaven is like to us right now. I think God gives us glimpses of it, and we long for a place we've never been to, yet it has always been our true home. I know all that is a stretch from what you meant, but it's what your dream made me think of.