My mom and I dream a lot, in our waking hours, or in our sleep. We share with each other the dreams that we remember. For many years, I have tried to decipher her dreams and mine, tracing every vivid, eerie detail, and finding clues in ancient Chinese folklore. What does it mean if we dream of a stranger in a blue dress? What about eating noodles? Buying vegetables in the market? Coming across a snake? Bitten by a dog?
On our most miserable days, we dreamt out loud. In an empty apartment, we talked about our dreams until we both fell asleep. One night, we talked about our dream house. “It doesn’t need to be too big but it’d better be two-storey with an in-house staircase…” The apartment was so empty because we had just been evicted. All of our belongings were removed by the court order. Everything we had was to be auctioned to settle the rent we owed. It was about 20 years ago. Little by little, we built our lives back on track. Today each of us lives in a house that is two-storey with an in-house staircase, and each of us has a house that we can call ours.
We dream in the deepest of nights, and we dream in our darkest hours. Dreams are the bridge between our inner selves and outer worlds. They have the power to transcend us from reality and transport us into a world of possibility. It may sound like a cliche, but dreams are a source of strength during hard times, providing hope and direction. My mom and I are both a little superstitious. We rely on our night dreams for insights and our daydreams for magic. We whisper to birds, and we make wishes…
