But in a recent dream (on the same night as the one I recorded here), I did see members of my family in a big ol’ ramshackle house which sat in the middle of a very shallow sea. This water wasn’t threatening, though; it was merely isolating. No one could get to us, and we couldn’t get out.

cynth: That hometown plays a role in many of my dreams, too, although not so much the house. Whatever THAT means.

My favorite thing in your comment is that you and your kids appear (true?) to be about the same age. I can’t imagine there’s any hidden meaning at all there!

marta: Please do — if not a full blog post, at least squeezed into your “About” page or something!

Jules: Those parents’-worst-nightmares dreams are a main reason why I’m glad not to have kids of my own. And I’ve never had uncles’ or stepfathers’-worst-nightmare dreams, knock on wood.

For many years, I had a recurring dream of being in an astronomical observatory and carrying around these big fat gleaming-metal poles. Logic would seem to dictate that they must have been telescopes, but that didn’t seem to be the case. What they were actually like were enormous stubby knitting needles — like with dull tips, not sharp ones. I encourage you to remember that although this dream was common during my teen years, sometimes a knitting needle is just a knitting needle.

Lately, I’ve been having Mother’s-Worst-Nightmare-types of dreams, including yet another one last night. The kind you think are actually happening and, when you wake to find they aren’t, are so relieved.

I have a recurring dream about a math or science class (can’t remember which) that I haven’t gone to in a long time, and I just know I’m failing it — but I can’t bring myself to go anyway.

A very twisty, turny Victorian-type house also shows up in my dreams a lot. As if I know it, but we’ve talked about that before.

Wow, my dreams sound anxious. I promise I don’t sit around fretting all the time.

I am particularly fond of the dreams in which those you loved and lost to this world show up. Those are truly a gift.

You would be very frustrated with my sense of direction. And didn’t I tell you once that someone needs to do a book of maps from children’s lit? Let’s do it together.

I’ve used dreams once or twice as a basis for a plot line, but they always seem to fizzle. I never finish the story.

And when I dream of water, I’m almost always about to be submerged by a HUGE wall of water from which there is no escape. (sideline–do you remember the part in the book Lucifer’s Hammer and the surfer catches a tsumani?) And I know it’s coming and I know there’s no where to go…I usually wake up pretty quickly before it gets me, but the anticipation of actually getting hit with it, makes my skin crawl. I cannot swim a stroke, pure terror.

Speaking of which, I’ve had a recurring nightmare of drowning ever since I was a child. And it doesn’t take Freud to realise it’s really a dream about abandonment, because I’m usually screaming for help to someone who has his/her back to me and can’t/won’t hear me. Besides, I’m a very strong swimmer who would likely only drown if I were unconscious when going in the water. So no screaming …

Glad to see I’m not the only one who dreams not just of events at Place Y, but also of how I got from X to Y in the first place. I thought it was some sort of freakish habit!

A main recurring feature of my dreams which I failed to mention above is the search. Not since I was a kid have I dreamt (AFAIK) of being pursued, but I’m often looking for someone or something else. Which provides plenty of opportunity to, um, y’know, go places.

For me dreams are always in vivid color. There are almost never supernatural elements like human flight or magical powers. I have to drive to wherever I’m going and I seem to be going someplace quite often in my dreams — a fair percentage of them involve cars in some way.

I am always myself despite having others I “know” change faces, bodies, locations, whatever. I have more than once read in my dreams, whether a traffic sign or a piece of paper with writing on it. This seems to be rare, but it happens pretty routinely for me.

Do I remember them? Only when they occur immediately before a full-waking. If I drift up through layers of unconsciousness to arrive at waking, no. Not a prayer. Sometimes even immediate waking doesn’t help. Before I can manage to gain full control of my limbs the details and images fade to almost indecipherable bits.

In my dreams, I am always young — mid-20s, maybe — and always fit and thin and taller. Always, without fail.

Why not? If I’m gonna dream, I might as well BE my dream, right?

(Your blog’s title, writing in the water, has always struck me as perfect for a writer’s blog — especially a writer who’s uncertain of his/her place in storytelling, his/her permanence, etc. It occurs to me now, though, that the title may be connected to the waterdreams. ???)

Most of my life I’ve dreamed about water–usually the lake in front of the house I grew up in. The water is rarely scary–it is just there.

The other thing is how often I dream about needing privacy and finding none. This problem I dream about every week, sometimes every night. Usually in the dream I need a place to do something you don’t want to do in front of people–go to the bathroom, take a shower, or whatever, ahem–and either the walls are missing or the walls disappear just when I shut the door and think, “Ah, finally, a private place.” Then the walls begin to vanish, often into water below.

Take that Freud!

That’s enough dream talk for today.