As a little tot (not the tater kind, thank you very much), I remember my exhausted parents patiently carrying me around our pool table in the middle of the night. They would hold me, rock me, quietly sing to me, tell me everything was alright, that there was nothing wrong. I remember them saying my name, trying to quiet my inconsolable sobbing. No, no... I hadn't watched Gremlins yet (just don't ever try to "water" my stuffed animals) and yes, I did have a pretty active imagination as a kid, but all these things were pretty much inconsequential because the nightmares that would send me into this state had nothing to do with anything visual. They were all about feeling.
The only visual thing I can remember about these dreams, was an empty rocking chair on a porch. That's it. Nothing more. Just an empty rocking chair, eerily rocking back and forth as if someone had suddenly jumped out of it and left in a rush. As I could look at the chair, there would be a feeling of complete and total safety, serenity, and peace... then, suddenly, it was ripped away from me by some unknown force - something that grated, something that writhed, something that twisted and hardened, something foul... something evil. To this day, I can recall those feelings and they still give me the hebejeebees... (and yes, that is spelled correctly).
Thankfully, those nightmares departed with my childhood, however, it wasn't long before they were replaced by a different sort of dream.
But before I get to the "freaky" dream section of this blog, before I tell you about the dreams that still leave me wide awake in the middle of the night wanting my mom and dad (ok, ok - maybe it's not that bad), before I tell you about how I snap awake to feel my heart trying to beat it's way right out of my body, before I tell you about how I have to peel my shaking body away from the sweat soaked bed sheets, before I tell you about any of that, I'm going to tell you why I think I have these dreams.
Ok - here goes... don't freak on me now - I'm going to tell you a secret: I'm supernatural.
There, I said it.
Yes, you read it right; I just told you... I'm supernatural.
Ok, there go the eyes... they're rolling so much they might as well pop out of your head and take a trip down to the supermarket.
No really, I'm dead serious: I am supernatural... and... so are you.
Don't believe me? Mr. Webster!? Mr. Webster! Mr. Webster - there you are, if you would please?
Precisely, couldn't have defined it better myself; thank you Mr. Webster. Oh, and Mr. Webster, by the way, I just ran spellcheck on your definition and the word "visible" was misspelled. Gotta get on that you know - people are relying on you!su·per·nat·u·ral: of or relating to an order of existence beyond the visible observable universe
So where were we? Oh yes - supernatural!
We are all supernatural in the sense that we relate to an order beyond the visible. Don't agree with me? Ok, let's break it down:
What makes your heart beat? Yes, yes, you can tell me it's all those wonderful little cells with their little nuclei comprised of with their busy little protons, neutrons, electrons, molecules, atoms, thingamagigs, and bobamathings, working in combined tandem all the way from your brain, through down to your chest, making that single "ba-bump", but break it down further than that - where do all these microscopic particles get their marching orders from? What generates the energy at the core of a cell?
Ok - let's take that thought a little deeper (for those of you who haven't had any brain food yet today, I suggest you go and get some Rocky Road ice cream... the almonds will help); what generates my thought process? I want to type, "hello" with one "o" instead of two... what generates that decision? It's not my fingers or even the cells in my brain that create the desire to hit my "o" key only once - it IS my brain cells that signal my fingers to carry out and execute this task, but again, they do NOT create the order, they only follow it... so what gives? (If you didn't eat your Rocky Road ice cream today, you're probably shrugging your shoulders right about now. Haven't a clue, do you!? See just how important those little almonds are?!)
There just doesn't seem to be any "scientific" explanation of this process... the process of creation.
So, now that you've been completely awed by my advanced knowledge of the cellular world, (ok, ok, so go talk to a biomed doctor who knows this stuff at the atomic or molecular level - yeash! I'm not that supernatural!), I think you get the idea... sometimes we just have to admit that there are things out there that science just cannot explain. For instance, why in the world doesn't everyone like The Three Stooges? I mean, they're all good looking, have great senses of humor, could clock anyone within arms distance at any given moment... what's not to like?!
Really though... science just can't cover all the bases because science is man-made and man has limitations. Science is limited to experiments proven (or disproven) by the scientific method, the purpose of the which is to test a hypothesis via repeatable experimental observations in an effort to record factual information.
So, if we run with this, we wouldn't be able to say that Napoleon ever lived, or that George Washington actually cut down a cherry tree when he was a little squirt (actually, he really didn't axe that tree - sorry to disappoint - this was a 17th century fabrication). We just can't duplicate these characters - man and science have limitations.
Of course, we have no doubt that both Napoleon and ol' George were actual historical figures, that's because we have reliable historical proof from numerous sources that vouch, verify and confirm their existence. We have historical proof of the conquests of Alexander the Great (who pre-dated Christ by over 300 years) and yet, even with all the historical and archaeological evidence (not to mention prophetic evidence that we continue to see be fulfilled at an ever-quickening pace) that validates the Bible, people still have trouble believing that Christ was who He said He was and that the Bible is really true.
But what does any of this have to do with my dreams? What does evidence of "the unexplainable" functions of being, the lack of evidence from science, and the proof of history have to do with my dreams?
Golly... at this point... I wish I could tell you, but I have to stop now to go eat some brain food! (I just love those little marshmallows!)
Until next time... take care and don't forget to eat your vegetables!
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