I don’t believe in interpreting dreams in the supernatural sense, but I do think that my dreams are often my subconscious exploring something that I’m not currently dealing with consciously. Last night I had two dreams.
One took place in a fictional world the day before we were supposed to leave for Africa. Bethany was pregnant and going into labor. I found myself climbing a large wooden plank into a tree house, which was where she wanted to give birth. She still intended for us to fly to Africa the next day with the newborn. This dream falls somewhere between me being for taking medicine and her wanting to ride things out whenever possible AND some giving birth in Africa fear. It seems pretty cut and dry.
The second dream took place in a fictional Yarmouth and I was driving by a building that had great importance to me. The fact I hadn’t been there in so long made me weep despite waking up and not recognizing the dream building at all.
I haven’t felt particularly homesick as of yet, though I think this dream was my subconscious missing the familiar. Throughout our busy days I do have pangs of “Wouldn’t it be nice to be home doing…”
So far they’ve included things like eating at Lotus Garden, an amazing Chinese restaurant, in Yarmouth or second-handing at the big Salvation Army in Spryfield. I miss having people over for board game nights or for any activity at all! I miss playing soccer every Sunday with the guys and regularly talking on the phone with my friends with vision loss.
However, it’s with great irony that most of what I find myself reminiscing about relates to summer activities: getting sushi with Jordan in St. Catharines, playing spike ball in the commons, or having friends over for a BBQ. This is at the same time that my parents – who are both teachers – have had their fourth snow day as they’re hit again and again with blizzards. Perhaps, I should just be thankful for the blue skies, the tropical temperatures, and the warm breeze!
It’s funny the sort of feelings you have as you establish a new home for yourself. There are things I long for from Halifax: friends, a reliable internet connection, the ability to drive myself to any store I could ever want. But I know that when I get back to Canada, I’ll wistfully look out my window caked with snow and dream of Lake Victoria.
Home is like that. And as someone who has lived in many places and will likely live many more, I suspect my homes will increase at the same rate as my longings for the last one.