I had some funky dreams: both gross and stressful. I always take dreams as a sign I’ve slept well and like in real life the most memorable ones are the ones on both sides of the spectrum. I would love to have more lucid dreams. I haven’t had all that many of them but when I do I make it a point to fly. There is no feeling like flying.
I had a friend who would purposely set his intention every night to lucid dream just to have sex. I myself caught myself dreaming once while engaged in the act and told myself to orgasm. It’s one of the few times I’ve managed to climax in my dreams.
Supposedly you can do all kinds of work on yourself while dreaming. I feel like I’m already so engaged in self help that I want to allow my subconscious to just do as it pleases at night. I recognize I could be harnessing it’s power. One more thing to add to the list. Lol. Maybe when my life slows down a little I’ll try it. I’m just happy to not be having insomnia spells right now.
I’m air drying in Brad’s shower right now as I write this. All his towels smell like laundry detergent and softener. I can’t handle those chemical scents. They overload my system. Go figure that one. I had my only ever asthma attack trying to sleep at someone’s house with heavily scented sheets. I was also under a lot of stress then too; with my in-laws in town. But the scents were the main culprit. Funny that when the doctor did the lung capacity test and told me I had asthma I laughed and didn’t believe him…until that happened.
7 years of a diagnosis with only one episode makes anyone a bit suspect but I guess there was some validity there. I don’t discount Western medicine completely. I just distrust most of it, with some major exceptions…like emergency situations.
I was thinking that the most fun I had the other night in the snow was when I started dancing. The music was pretty good that they had on the loudspeakers and as far as I’m concerned any place is a good dance floor. The kids get so embarrassed sometimes. Brad then decided to dance around me like Gomez dances around Morticia. It was so funny and silly and romantic. Romance to me isn’t expensive dinners, flowers and chocolates.
Don’t get me wrong. I do like those things, somewhat, but mostly it involves those silly little things that are purposely done just for me. Like when he noticed me sweating in his bed one night and woke me up to change my shirt. It was such a beautiful gesture. I felt so loved and taken care of.
Romance is not dead. Viva la France!!