For two weeks I dreamed of churches. This was in 1999, and I was in a particularly angsty phase of my college life. Some of them were really hazy but many times they were very vivid, and they had kept me mystified for years.
I saw the Baeza Cathedral in Spain in warm morning light. Above it was the most magnificent blue sky I have ever seen, and, around me were three pretty Andalusian girls playing hopscotch. One looked liked Wynona Ryder when she was very young. I can't remember what the other two looked like but they were all wearing floral sundresses. I also saw the wooden churches of Poland, all with enchanting interiors with vibrant paintings on the walls and ceilings. But there was one church that I dreamed about most: the Cologne Cathedral, which is considered as one of Germany's most famous landmarks.
Were those dreams symbolic or reflective of anything? Why do we dream? What is the function of dreaming? Here's an interesting video I've stumbled upon while searching for answers.
In one of those dreams the sky was splashed with a symphony of red, blue, and purple as the sun set over the clouds floating just above the enormous structure. It was autumn, and the leaves had turned brown. Then, I saw an old lady who appeared to be ill, holding a wooden jar filled with fish. I don't know if my visions were formed out of my fascination with the history of the Catholic Church or my voracious appetite for travel documentaries, but I was baffled by the fact that those church dreams (and a couple of nightmares) continued for thirteen days.
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