This is a bit strange and somewhat personal – I tend to
dream very sporadically, and within the realm of visuals that my mind sketches,
there is always a preference for winter as the background. As long as I am
dreaming about having turned into a father, raising a family, the retirement
years, or feeling good about my financial might, the landscape is always an extreme
winter. Really cannot understand the reason for this. There is nothing special I
have achieved this time of year. In fact, the last two winters have been
rather hard on me, financially, health-wise, and from an emotional perspective.
Even
when the mind ruminates about how I can make my mother’s last year happier,
the setting is always cold, with the temperatures dipping rather drastically. When
dreaming about my imaginary baby son, whom I would love to call JUNIOR, the
setting is the same – the boy-toy is dressed in cute, costume-like woolens. During schooling years, winters were about studying a lot and preparing for exams –
not exactly a wonderful thing to register in your subconscious. Twice, during the winter, we lost some dearly loved family members. The grounds for some degree
of domestic trouble in my household also rooted themselves during cold climatic
conditions. I have one theory to explain this, but it isn’t exactly great, i.e., my hatred for the summer season is so acute that its exact opposite is portrayed
by my mind when I dream – does that make sense?
Lately, I have realized that I tend to dream more about winter settings when I am happier, when I am receptive to happier thoughts. For the longest time, I dreamt of having a winter home somewhere in the hills. I often dreamt of tucking in my bedridden mother at nighttime, wishing her good night. However, the reality is that I lost my mother recently, in 2026, and never got the opportunity to make either of the dreams come true - could never manage a winter home, never took care of my mom the way I should have, and never got to tuck her in. This is life perhaps - what was once a comforting vision and a thought has now transformed into a type of regret.
Is this strange? Do your dreams have a seasonal preference?
