"I have had a dream..."

"...past the wit of man to say what dream it was" (A Midsummer Night's Dream IV, ii, 208-209).
There's something dreamlike about adventures. You go, you come back, and four weeks, or months, or years later it feels like a dream.

Four weeks ago today, I went on a Writers' Retreat. My favorite teacher these past two semesters (I took foundations English last semester and Shakespeare--aka "Magic in Shakespeare"--this semester) personally invited me, a dozen of his other students, and a few of his colleagues to attend a Writers' Retreat he put together up in this winter wonderland (though the pictures are poor and don't convey the beauty in the slightest). This was before we got snow at home, so it was amazing to step out of the vans surrounded by at least a foot of snow, snow-enshrouded trees, and a log lodge with perfect icicles hanging from its eaves. We spent three days up there, dedicating our time to writing, and it was really hard to come back to face the stress of the upcoming month and the speed bump of Thanksgiving break. I don't think I had had such care and stress-free days in a long time. It was a great adventure, but, like most adventures, now feels like a dream.

There are a lot of experiences we have that feel like this, and there's something about these experiences that change us, even in the smallest ways. They influence where we go, what we do, and who we are, often in ways we cannot explain, even if we knew what they were. 

The characters of Lysander, Hermia, Demetrius, Helena, and, perhaps in particular, Bottom in A Midsummer Night's Dream, feel this same sort of bewilderment and wonder. This is one reason why Shakespeare is an amazing writer--he is able to convey this same feeling that we all feel in and through his characters. As Puck suggests at the end, even we wonder at the play, as if it too is only a dream, leaving us with questions and unexplainable thoughts.

Isn't it beautiful that experiences, art, stories, and nature can do this to us? Is it really possible to live without being affected by them and the change?

Will this mortal life, an eternity from now when we are looking back, feel like a dream? Will our current minute cares and stresses and concerns matter then?