When Your Dreams Won’t Let You Ignore Yourself

The Cynical RomanticDream InterpretationDream MeaningSelf-ReflectionSelf Awareness
Written By The Cynical Romantic

When a Purple Dragon Swims Through Your Life

Have you ever woken from a dream so vivid you could still feel yourself running, hear laughter echoing in your ears, and sense the rush of movement lingering even after you open your eyes? That’s how I woke up the morning I dreamt of the purple dragon.

I was on a walking bridge with a group of people — some I felt I knew, some I didn’t. We were running toward a small, man-made island between the mainland and the open ocean. Not running in fear. Running like kids — laughing, energized, full of anticipation, like something good was about to happen.

The colors were strangely sharp: grey-green ocean, light tan sand, blue-grey sky, green treetops. Not bright sunshine — just soft light with thin clouds drifting overhead. The whole scene carried a quiet hum of joy, the kind you feel right before a big moment without knowing why.

One side of the island faced the open ocean. The other faced a narrow causeway where the water flowed through, forming a slow-moving river. It felt intentionally made — part ocean, part river, part park. A place between things. Everything felt vivid and real, as if I were actually there, watching the water in the causeway flow and seeing the small, white capped waves on a calm ocean. The joy I felt was real and I could 'feel' myself smiling.

Then everything shifted.

We were heading back toward the bridge when someone yelled, “Shark!”
Apparently a white shark had shot through the water beneath us. By the time I reached the rail, I caught only a glimpse of its back and tail as it powered into the causeway, like it was chasing something. I remember feeling a small sting of disappointment. I’d missed the moment.

Then I saw a most wonderful and strange thing. Disappointment, became excitement.

A dragon swam from beneath the bridge— round snout like the young dragon from the movie "How to Train Your Dragon", rough scales, small wings, long and wide and fluid. Its color was a deep mix of purples: light, dark, almost black in places. And it was chasing the shark.

The chatter stopped. Silence fell.

We all watched this purple dragon as it swam beneath the bridge and disappeared into the causeway. I felt disappointment that I only saw the dragon for an instant. Like I had missed something altogether. You know, those weird feelings you experience during a dream.

I was standing alone then, leaving the group still standing back at the bridge railing.

Then someone shouted, “It’s coming back!” Excitement just popped into the air, and this time I was standing first on the rail in great anticipation of the dragon's return swim to the ocean.

Time seemed to slow, as the dragon glided back under the bridge toward the open ocean, that long, colorful, powerful body sliding through the water as if the water itself wanted to move for it. I didn’t feel fear. I felt joy… and something like awe.

When it disappeared into the ocean, I didn’t feel disappointed. I felt complete.

I turned toward the mainland. It felt like going home.

And then I woke up.

At 5:34 a.m., I lay there with my eyes closed, trying to hold every detail — the colors, the movement, the feeling — like a row of dominoes in my mind that I didn’t want to topple out of order.

It really was a strange, wonderful dream.

And here’s the thing: I don’t think it was “just a dream.”

Why dreams might matter more than we admit

We live in a world that worships the tangible — numbers, schedules, notifications, measurable results. Dreams get dismissed as random brain noise or the side effects of late-night snacks ( I am an expert on late-night snacks).

But sometimes a dream lands with enough weight that it refuses to fade. It lingers. It feels shaped, intentional, almost like a story your mind insisted on telling.

This bridge-island-shark-dragon sequence felt like one of those.

Of course, I consulted dream interpretation sites (don't you?), and saw an agreed upon pattern by those interpreters. Over time, I started to understand the possible meanings — not as absolute truths, just as gentle interpretations:

  • The bridge: a crossing point, a transition

  • The island: a unique inner place, a new phase

  • The shark: an old fear moving under the surface

  • The dragon: something powerful within you, chasing the fear rather than feeding it

You don’t have to believe in symbolism to sense something there. Sometimes your life speaks in images because words aren’t getting through. Dreams can be one way it does that.

Not every dream is meaningful. But when one feels unusually real, carries emotion, and sticks with you after coffee, it might be worth your attention.

Not because it predicts the future. Not because it’s mystical.
Because it may be revealing something about who you are and where you are right now.

A gentle first step

If any of this resonates, try something simple.

The next time you wake with a dream still clear, jot down a few notes: what happened, who was there, and how you felt at the beginning, middle, and end. Don’t analyze. Don’t interpret. Just capture it before it dissolves.

You’re not enrolling in dream school. You’re just giving your inner life a fraction of the attention you give your inbox.

For me, that purple dragon dream opened a door. It made me wonder:

What if my dreams are showing me more than I usually allow myself to see — about my fears, my hope, and the person I’m becoming?

In the next post, we’ll walk a little further onto that bridge — into how dreams can offer guidance and hope without turning us into mystics or obsessives.

For now, I’ll leave you with this:

If a strange purple dragon swims through your night, maybe don’t rush to forget it.

Tools for Quiet Mornings”

The Cynical Romantic https://www.loveliesandscandals.com/
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