I don’t often have memorable dreams. Most of the time, my dreams are actually really strange or disjointed and make no sense at all. They’re so jumbled up, I don’t really remember them well. Other times, I have dreams that are not fit to share on my personal blog, if you know what I mean… 😉 Still, others times—I have a dream like this one, which I will share with you.
It was fun, vivid, and “made sense” in the way that dreams do. It actually had a narrative, and a story arc. If I were a more eloquent writer, I might spend some time “embellishing” the dream, but I won’t do that now because 1) I don’t really have time to and 2) there’s something about the dream quality where details are really fuzzy, do you know what I mean? It’s like, you know what’s going on, and you can follow the “gist” of your dream, but it lacks on specific details. Your unconscious mind gives you “just enough” to work with, and no more.
So here we go.
It was like a scene out of a cheezy romance novel or something, set in 16th Century Scotland, maybe? It could have been middle earth or some fictional space. I say Scotland because the men were wearing kilts, so that was nice. 🙂
I was the main female love interest, and I was with my lover—he was this… oh I don’t know, heir to a fortune but didn’t want it. He wasn’t anyone specific from my life, he was just kind of a generic good-looking, rugged guy. He radiated “nobility” and “good”, I remember that. There was some element of “We’re going to run away, get married, and live on a simple farm instead” kind of thing. There was a third man present, and he was my lover’s “first mate” or best man—the one man he knows he can trust with his life.
The three of us ride up on horses to his castle and we raid the place. We were taking anything valuable that we can carry. I mean, technically it’s all his stuff, so he can do what ever he wants to. We drape the horses with large expensive gold and silver necklaces, encrusted and strung with jewels. We jingle when we walk.
So we ride into town, and there’s this a group of rough men that have been looking for the man I was with. He leaves me with his “fist mate” and takes off on his horse, running—trying to draw the danger away. But this has the effect of stirring up enough commotion in the city that the constable sees us—and yeah, we’re all draped in this jewelry and it CLEARLY doesn’t belong to us, right?
So the constable starts to chase us. There’s this mad race on horseback—even galloping through huge mansions, in and out of courtyards, trying not to get caught. But we are caught, in the end.
The constable makes me give him all the jewelry… he wasn’t unkind, he just thought we were thieves and he was doing the right thing.
I explain to him the circumstances and ask him if I can keep this one really simple silver necklace with a single round pendant on it, also silver as a token of my lover or something.
He says yes. But this part is weird, he spits on it—as if to say “This necklace is worthless to me, and I also promise not to take it from you.” I made a show of slowly putting it on around my neck as if to say “Your promise is sealed.”
The constable also strips the best man of his tartan, essentially stripping him of his identity, but rather than acting all dejected about it, the best man immediately sets to the task of reinstating himself.
…and then that was it.
It was just like really vivid and kind of fun ☺ There were lots of archetypes and symbols in it. Maybe someday I’ll understand what it all means.