FOR YOUR DREAMS

Dear Spike:

You've had bad dreams before, of course. We know this because you sometimes wake up screaming or crying. Sometimes you sprint into our room and leap into our arms, you tiny body shaking in our embrace. Other times you just simply sob softly in your sleep.

But you've never been able to explain your nightmares to us before. Not until this morning, that is. That's when you came, sobbing uncontrollably, to your mother and explained that you had dreamed that she made food for me and none for you.

I can't explain this dream. And I can't even explain to you why we have bad dreams at all — although psychologist Antti Revonsuo has an interesting theory: He suggests that nightmares serve the evolutionary purpose of allowing our species to "rehearse" for facing various threats and in so doing prepare us to better face those threats in real life.

I suppose I can see some logic to that hypothesis inherent in the terribly sad dream you had this morning. We don't fret as much as we once did about your weight, but everytime you find a friend on the playground who is your same age I am reminded of just how very small you still are. Food is important for everyone, but it is especially important for you. I promise that we would never forget to feed you — let alone purposefully ignore your needs, as you dreamed this morning — but I guess I can see how preparing for this threat subconsciously would be worthwhile in a Darwin-meets-Maslow-meets-Freud sort of way.

But fear defined is no less frightening, so even if that explains the reason for your dreams, it certainly won't make it any easier to wake up in a cold sweat with your heart pounding and your fists clenched as tight as clamps.

I understand. I have bad dreams, too. Every night, when I close my eyes, I see death and sadness and evil and emptiness. And so I don't get a lot of sleep.

There are, of course, just two things you can do when confronted by fear: You can run from it, or you can face it.

And when you can muster the courage to do so, face it.

Face it because, when you do, you'll likely learn something about yourself you didn't know before.

Face it because, when you do, you'll likely find that many of your fears are not so frightening as you once dreamed.

Face it because, if you don't, you'll just have to keep running.

And, if for no other reason, face it because I so often have chosen not to. And I know that I am no better for all the running I've done in my life — just more tired.

I'm sorry you had such a bad dream this morning. I hope you won't have the same dream again.

But if you do, when you wake up, your mother and I will be here to hold you. And then we'll make you the biggest breakfast ever, just so that you understand: Dreams are just dreams. And every bad night deserves a beautiful morning.

Love,
dad