I guess I still haven’t totally recovered from my move, because I’m still thinking of all those cardboard boxes filled with journals … dream and day journals. I wasn’t sure where to put them all in my new apartment; so one kitchen cabinet is crammed with boxes! (It’s a good thing I’m not a big cook – that space would be perfect for some nice CorningWare casserole dishes or whatever it is that lives in the cabinets of people who love to cook.) The rest are stacked in a closet.

Somehow the day journals don’t concern me, but I wonder about saving all those piles of pages of dream reports. A dream is so beautifully ephemeral, it almost feels wrong to save and store years and years of them. The dream barely wants to be remembered – (it slips out of consciousness as we roll over to turn off the alarm) – let alone reified.

And yet, thanks to those dream journals, I can tell you exactly what I dreamed on February 12, 2006, (well that’s cheating, that was one of those life-changing dreams that I don’t need to look up in a journal to recount image for image, but more on that another time), or November 1, 2009, or … you get the picture. Keeping all those dream journals feels like I’m idolizing something that should be let to breathe in and out of being in one glorious sigh. I want to have faith that the dreams will always be there, and last night’s dream is all I need for today. Each dream will be remembered for exactly the right amount of time and when it’s done serving the dreamer it will slip into the world of memories lost, along with all those breakfasts and car rides and trips to the grocery store that are easily and effortlessly forgotten.

Dreams are written on darkness in wisps of light – they are not carved in stone, they are not definitive statements. Perhaps they don’t want to be captured and caged on the page.

Hopefully, before my next move, I’ll have a clear decision about what to do with all those journals … whether I should set them free (shred? Burn? Recycle?) or box them up and put them on the moving truck yet one more time.  (Opinions please!)

Boxes of Journals