Last night I dreamed of a field of yellow flowers I used to play in when I was a child. I walked into the field, and as the fragrance and the color of the flowers filled my senses I felt intensely happy, and at the same time, intensely sad.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
This is what it is to be alive
Last night I dreamed of a field of yellow flowers I used to play in when I was a child. I walked into the field, and as the fragrance and the color of the flowers filled my senses I felt intensely happy, and at the same time, intensely sad.
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4 comments:
I have dreams like this; things from the past so real you can touch them - but they came out of your mind from nowhere. How does that happen? How is it stored - exactly as it was - but buried?
Ooooh, I *know* these feelings!
Mine generally come as memories, rather than dreams, triggered by scents more than sights.
Intense happiness for having experienced a moment - combined with powerful sadness that this moment is past.
How serendipitous your post is for me. I just started reading a collection of Van Gogh's letters. And there are his flowers.
Smartz, I have read one or two of those letters -- powerful stuff. Wasn't he a wonderful writer?
Danni, I know what you mean. What's more intense than a scent-triggered memory? I try to imagine what it must be like for animals with their superior sense of smell. Like 3D movies.
Heidi, I often wonder what triggers those fragments. They seem random, but there must be a reason they pop up. We know so little about the brain and its mechanisms.
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