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Vivid Dreams and Meditation

Since I’ve been meditating for 20 minutes daily, my dreams are more vivid and memorable. The following account I am writing about four hours after I woke up and remembered it.

The first scene I remember was sitting in a nearly empty bus in near complete darkness on a street while looking at a second bus passing me while going the opposite direction. It was filled with several men, I think all African American men. They looked angry, and they were yelling at me, though I didn’t make out anything in particular. One man managed to jump from that bus to the one I was in, and as soon as he got in and sat down, I saw him crying. He looked exhausted, and he explained they were going off to earn $12,000, which was all they were going to get.

From the bus, somehow I ended up in a room with several people and what looked to be an art show of some kind with robots that all had slick, silver skin. The walls of the room were a dark green and vaulted so high I could not see a ceiling. The robots included one sculpture that was an head of the alien from the Alien movie series also appearing as a glossy, shiny silver shape. I suddenly heard a coworker’s voice in her lively, interested tone asking someone else questions. She had bright blonde hair and wore a shiny, white-silver, strapped, knee-length dress.

From that room, I ended up in a small bowling hall with about four or five lanes where people bowled. The lanes had the typical set up, but they were also warped downward, so balls rolled down a few drops toward the pins. At the space behind the bowlers, balls were arranged neatly on racks starting with two five pound balls, then going to nine, ten, twelve pound balls and beyond.

Lastly, I ended up outside in the most bizarre scene yet. I was walking along a sidewalk with a building to my left again with a dark green wall. The sidewalk had a few steps and then ended at a backyard of some kind that wrapped around the back of the building and slanted upward. Leonard Nimoy and a couple other men were singing that Bilbo Baggins song he sung several decades ago, but then it morphed into a different song. One line went, “Every man will be and everyone will be themself.” I ended with walking past the singers and into the back yard. I turned left into the back yard that continued to slant upward, with the a large twisted tree in front of me and a mountainside to my right.

This is not the only time I’ve remembered so much detail from my dreams since I’ve started meditating, but I decided to share this one just to show how meditation can affect our minds beyond the meditation itself.

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