I've been having dreams recently. For a while there, I wasn't dreaming. The lucidity of my dreams (even though I don't remember most of them) are sort of comforting to me, as if I've found my old baby blanket and inhale the long forgotten scent of home and safety. Anyhow, dreaming again refreshes me while I'm in the wakeful world.
As I think about it today, I'm convinced that my dreams are the world of truth. The truth can come and find me without dulling on the illusions and traps my wakeful self sets up specifically to hold back truth.
Flight is a common dream that most have. You and I both know that without an airline ticket or another vehicle of some sort, humans don't fly. That's a fact, but it's not the truth. The truth is that we do fly. Some soar in the clouds, and others fly lower. In my dreams, I never fly but I leap and glide, floating no higher than the treetops.
The truth there is that I never leave the ground long enough to call it true flight. I'm still grounded, maybe too afraid to fly. That truth is so clear, so raw that there is no comparison here in the wakeful world.
Our dreams are truth.
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Life, faith, spirituality is wider and deeper than many have been willing to explore. I'm just trying to find my way and running into people along the way.
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