The main thing that troubles a person who had an unusual dream is whether it was a good or a bad omen. Consulting one or another dream dictionary, we are either even more anxious or calmed. Everything depends on the fact how the interpretation reflects events of our present life as well as on our ability to find the logical connection between the interpretations.
When you have bad dreams, it is desirable that they would not come true. Different peoples invented various rites to ward off a bad dream. The simplest way is to look out of the window and say: "Where the night goes, there the dream goes!"
Some people think that one can ask for help or get instructions while dreaming. The ancient Greeks behaved in this way going to sleep in the temple and hoping that a deity would come in a dream and help. The ancient Chinese burnt the smoking candles before an idol, prostrated themselves, kissed the ground and tried to fall asleep. The deity gave them directions in their sleep. It is understandable that one and the same dream content, for example a dream foretokening an ill omen, may be relevant to family life, relations with the friends, and affairs at work. The dreams may come true soon or after some time.
Some people think that the dreams may be interpreted depending on the day of the week, the date of the month, and the day of the lunar calendar. So, the dreams by Sunday come true before lunch. The dreams by Friday are most prophetic. The dreams by Saturday are very serious. You should relate the dream and its interpretation with the date of the month when you had the dream. There must be some sense in it. Our physiology is also related to the moon phases, so the dreams, to some extent, may be connected with the earthly and extraterrestrial rhythms.
O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
Shutting with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleased eyes, embower'd from the light,
Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:
O soothest Sleep! if so it pleases thee, close
In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes,
Or wait the amen, ere the poppy throws
Around my bed its lulling charities.
Then save me, or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes, -
Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.
Out of my window late at night I gape
And see the stars but do not watch them really,
And hear the trains but do not listen clearly;
Inside my mind I turn about to keep
Myself awake, yet am not there entirely.
Something of me is out in the dark landscape.
How much am I then what I think, how much what I feel?
How much the eye that seems to keep stars straight?
Do I control what I can contemplate
Or is my vision that's amenable?
I turn in my mind, my mind is a room whose wall
I can see the top of but never completely scale.
All that I love is, like the night, outside,
Good to be gazed at, looking as if it could
With a simple gesture be brought inside my head
Or in my heart. But my thoughts about it divide
Me from my object. Now deep in my bed
I turn and the world turns on the other side.