What are dreams?
What in the hell ARE dreams? Dreams are a phone line, a powerful connection to something much, much, much bigger than our little minds. Hello, anyone there? A pulling fishing line on our bad habits and a counterweight to our busy-body appointment book lifestyles. Dreams are a letter in the mailbox saying “Hey there, pay attention to THIS shit.” Like a masked stranger, dreams are who we want them to be. If we fear them, dreams are the wolf banging out there door, threatening to blow the house down. If we only let them in, the wolf will peel away its fur and—what?—she’s a beautiful neighbor back from town with news and advice! Sit her down for tea and use your best china, because what she has to say MATTERS. As you sit with her, you realize that’s she glowing translucent. Try to understand her and she’ll surprise you and turn you in ways you cannot imagine.
Dreams are mixed metaphors.
To get things through your thick skull, dreams dig through the cupboard drawer of your mind and arrange the odds and ends into cute little stories, fables for the storybook hour of your already-gone-to-bed bedtime. What else do they have to work with besides what you give them?— they need to speak in the words that you understand after all.
Dreams, if we let them, lower down the line and pull us out of the muck. With no more mud in our eyes we look around at the birds-eye, cloud-high view and OH MY GOD we see something we’ve rarely ever seen before.