Dreams of crops and cassocks

Sometimes, when you are dreaming, you are absolutely certain that you will remember your dream with clarity when you awaken. It's in the back of your mind, even while the dream is occurring.

I had a dream last night. It was one of those dreams, with great clarity and logical sequence (at the time), the kind that I knew must have meaning for my life.

I don't have the clarity of recall today about the dream that I was expecting, though. I remember working in a large crop field, using hand tools (what type, I'm not entirely sure, but my memory includes things like a scythe and a rake, both of which I use). I was told that I needed to don the robes of an acolyte in order to continue, so I did. I am reasonably sure that I was not told why at the time. In this case, the "robes of an acolyte" consisted of a full-length, button-down black cassock, which I have not worn in over 30 years. It's not practical for working in a field, but it didn't seem to get in my way.

One corner of the field had a different crop, darker and more tangled, and there I learned that I would need the robes of an altar boy. Not that I would need to wear those in this case, but that I would need them. The "robes of an altar boy" in this case were a black cassock and white cotta, again something that I have not worn in over 30 years. I had an image of a younger boy wearing them, moving across my vision from left to right, although it was not me.

Somewhere in all of this, and I don't know where, there was a large, random collection of people milling about, going about their business, unaffected by my work as I was unaffected by theirs. It was as if two worlds overlapped but did not really intersect.

I really have to work harder at developing an ability to remember my dreams.