Dream And Memory

It has been a very long time since I last updated our blog. As I quietly observed and thought about certain things today, a wave of deep emotion washed over me, leaving me lost in quiet reflection for a long while.

The word “dream” carries two completely different layers of meaning. On ordinary nights, when our bodies fall into deep sleep, we experience what we commonly call a dream, a vivid world that unfolds only in our slumber. Yet in Chinese perception, this simple word also represents imagination, yearning, and all the unspoken thoughts hidden deep in our hearts. Looking back carefully, I realize dreams have accompanied me through countless quiet nights and given me far more than I have ever realized.

I have dreamed of my late grandfather many times over the years. Every single time I see his familiar figure in my dreams, I wake up with my eyes filled with warm and helpless tears. Strangely enough, on the day he left this world, I did not break down or feel overwhelming sadness. Even up until now, I have never cried bitterly for his passing in reality. But I know clearly in my heart that if I were to face that farewell once again, I would still be drowned in sorrow and reluctance.

Due to the long-term use of psychiatric medication, my memory has faded and weakened day by day. Many trivial and precious fragments of life can no longer be recalled through rational thinking. For me, most of my lost memories are retrieved in two ways: the blurred scenes in my dreams, and the familiar scents and faint lingering thoughts that suddenly cross my mind. These intangible feelings are also the unique “dreams” that belong only to me.

There are countless dreams I thought I had completely forgotten. They fade away with the sunrise, leaving no trace in my daily life. Yet at certain moments, they will resurface quietly, reproducing the forgotten past in front of my eyes. Many trivial and tender memories of my childhood that I could no longer remember in reality are all preserved completely in my dreams. Night after night, they replay those old scenes for me over and over again.

In the world of dreams, we seem to be separated from the trivial and heavy real world. We temporarily escape all the melancholy, helplessness, pain and persistent struggles that haunt our daily life. Some dreams are filled with gentle beauty and simple happiness, soothing our tired hearts. But some dreams are also full of regret and disappointment, just like real life.

That is why I always quietly look forward to the arrival of every night and every dream. Deep down, I think I am just longing to return to that peaceful and relaxed world in my sleep. From a unique perspective, we never truly belong entirely to the real world we live in. Only when we step into the territory of dreams can we escape all the burdens of reality. It is the softest and most private way for me to escape from life.

After waking up, I can still clearly remember the beautiful warmth or the frightening unease in my dreams. Yet these vivid feelings fade rapidly with time, just like all the ordinary things we experience and gradually forget in real life. In the end, I am always left lying quietly on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Sometimes I fall into a short moment of hesitation, and sometimes I sink into long, endless thoughts. I stay in this trance until I finally gather my courage, get out of bed, and choose to face my ordinary life again.

Life is just like throwing stones into the vast ocean. The stones we cast may be washed back to the shore by rolling waves, but even if they return, what difference does it make? After a few days, we will completely forget those stones we once threw with all our hearts. In fact, every stone we toss into the sea is a dream we have released. All people walk forward with time, accidentally abandoning countless dreams in the past, and eventually forgetting them completely.

The other night, I had a particularly clear dream about my childhood. When I was young, I was slow and clumsy, troubled by attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. I could never concentrate on studying or learning new things. It is only now that I finally understand why everything others told me went in one ear and out the other during my childhood.

In those days, I was always compared with my younger sister. My academic performance was poor, I memorized knowledge extremely slowly, and I seemed inferior to others in almost every aspect. Reciting English words and learning new knowledge were endless suffering for me at that time.

But time flows forward relentlessly. I have stumbled through those difficult and ignorant childhood years and grown up step by step. Looking back now, my childhood was not all bad and painful. There were also simple and pure moments of joy.

I often have the urge to go back to the past, just like when I was a child, eagerly looking forward to growing up and becoming an adult quickly. Now I have finally grown up, but I can never step back into my childhood again.

I once saw a touching metaphor that compares a person’s life journey to a clock. The twelve o’clock position on the clock represents the age of eighteen, and that is exactly where I stand right now. For the first time in my life, I feel flustered and fearful because of the passage of time and the growth of age. I am afraid of growing older, afraid of time slipping away, yet I have no way to stop it.

Time is always fleeting and irreversible. Perhaps the only way for me to revisit my past, my old days and my beloved people is through dreams.

I will always hold a gentle expectation in my heart, hoping to meet you again in the world of dreams.

So, good night.