The Recollection Of Dreams

Some people remember dreams clearly and frequently.  I am one of those people.  In fact, I remember dreams every time that I sleep, even in naps.  Some dreams I remember for a long time.  The earliest dream that I remember clearly came to me at the age of four, and I can remember numerous dreams from the entire course of my life.  This may be unusual, but probably not.  I tend never to think of myself as unique, or even anything approaching that. 

Maybe I just talk about dreams more than most people.  Don’t worry, though, I’m not going to recount a lot of my dreams here.  I happen to find other people’s dreams fascinating, but that is not a general condition of mankind.  So no, don’t worry.

There are many people who maintain that they never remember dreams, and some who even tell you with a straight face that they cannot recall ever having dreamed at all.  My father is one of those.  “I probably do dream,” he once told me, “but you couldn’t prove it by me.” 

I have often considered this variety of experience with what we are assured is the natural and universal experience of dreaming.  As you may expect, I have theories on the subject.

One theory could be called the physical theory of dream recollection.  It could be that the failure to remember dreams is related to the sleep patterns of the subject, the manner in which one sinks through the levels of sleep, or rises from them.  Dreaming takes place in the deepest level of sleep, which is characterized by rapid eye movement.  (REM sleep.)  I find this to be a possible explanation. 

Another possible explanation could be based in the emotional makeup of the subject.  Call it the emotional theory.  Some people, by reason of their emotional makeup, may be disposed to dream more vividly and recall the dreams.  Maybe “emotional” is the wrong word, maybe some other function of mentality or personality is at work.  Maybe it’s a little bit of both theories at work.

The no-recollection people, the ones that I have known, are very deep sleepers.  My father, for example, would hit the bed after draining the last of fifteen cups of coffee that day and immediately be fast asleep.  He would remain so until it was time to get up, or until his chronic back pain woke him up.  When that happened he’d make another cup of coffee.  When his back had settled down he would return to deep sleep.  Being deep sleepers is not the only thing that the no-recollection individuals share.

They are also people who tend to be untroubled by ambiguity.  They may be very confident or they may be less so, but they tend to see things clearly and live free of doubts.  By way of supporting the “doubt-free theory,” I am on the other hand constantly plagued by doubts of all kinds, and I see everything in very ambiguous terms.  And I remember dreams to a remarkable extent, like Pete Rose remembers balls and strikes in every important at bat for his entire career. 

I am persuaded by medical science that we all dream, whether we recall the experience or not.  I am also convinced that while we sleep our minds continue to churn away on the problems that we encounter in our lives.  Probably we do this continuously, below the level of consciousness.  I am convinced because I have evidence from my own experience. 

Forgive me one personal example:

I took the California bar exam one August.  The exam is the culmination of three years plus of very hard work, and any failure to cross that last hurdle will ruin the entire effort.  We didn’t hear the results until November, a wait of approximately ten weeks.   Early in the week in which we were to hear the results, I had a clarifying experience.  I had a job at the time, and I drove to work one morning, parked the car in a suitable spot and was walking the long block and a half to the office.  I was not thinking of anything in particular, and I was not worrying about anything.  I had been sure that I had passed the test from the time that I had taken it, and nothing had happened to shake that confidence.  (I had, in fact, passed the test.)  I looked up into the trees and a flash of sunlight caught my eye.  In that fraction of a second, I remembered the test, and a particular essay question in all of its details, and I remembered an issue that I had failed to spot.  I had left something, maybe something important, out of my answer.  And I remembered that the omission had come to me in a dream the night before.  That was nine full weeks after I had taken the test.  So yes, I believe that our minds are at work 24/7, for better or worse.

I tend to think that it is a lucky thing that I remember so many dreams.  I find it most entertaining, for one thing.  Even the disturbing ones are interesting, and sometimes they even carry a discernable meaning.  I don’t envy the people that remember nothing of their sleeping time, although I’m sure that there is a certain peace in it.  I guess the lesson is that we are all as different as we are similar, the wide range of normality is at work here.