Have you ever noticed that you dream differently depending on what you eat?
I’ve been paying attention to this body-mind connection for a few years now, and I’m convinced it’s a thing.
Yesterday I spent most of the day cooking a large pot of cannellini beans. Nothing magical. Just dried beans in water. A few fresh herbs from the garden, a dash of salt, and time. Lots of time. Far more than I’d anticipated. I started the pot around 11 a.m. and by 8 p.m. they were finally soft enough to eat.
The flavor was good enough. My husband and I debated the usual question. Pintos or white beans? We both agreed pintos win on flavor alone. But these beans had a purpose. They were meant for something else later.
Fast forward to bedtime.
My belly was warm and content. I drifted off slowly and suddenly I was floating. Deep in an ocean full of light. Music hummed all around me. Then came a gentle nudge and there it was. A massive whale, its eye locked directly into my soul.
And then there was the time I had a colonoscopy.
Last year I had my first one. I wasn’t especially worried. I’d already done one of those poop-in-a-box tests that came back all clear. But I’m over fifty, and it was time. So there I was, curled on my side, giving my anesthesiologist a heads-up that I have a habit of waking up during twilight anesthesia and talking or singing. Or so I’ve been told.
He nodded and grinned. I’m sure he’s heard everything.
Three. Two. One.
I wake up.
I’m surrounded by whales. Dancing whales. I’m talking to them about dancing naked and how freeing it must be to live in the ocean. One whale swims closer and begins whispering something about the meaning of life. For humans.
Then I hear a voice from far away say, “Oh shit. She’s awake.”
And suddenly I’m back in the ocean again, dancing with whales.
Back to last night.
I woke a few times. Had to relieve myself. Old people problems. But every time I drifted back to sleep, there they were. Whales. I was swimming with them again, completely at ease.
And then, just before my final wake-up, that whale found me. The one from the colonoscopy. He rose up beside me. I don’t know why I assume it’s a male, but I do. He leaned in and started whispering again, sharing the meaning of human life.
And just like that…
I woke up.
Maybe the whale wasn’t telling me the meaning of life at all, but reminding me who I carry it from.
I’m curious. Do certain foods ever seem to change your dreams?
The Food Guru: Food, Travel, Photography = Life 