Posts Tagged ‘Following Your Dream’

An Unfinished Dream

Posted: March 9, 2013 in Dreams
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Scultpor of Emotions by Gaylord Ho

       “Visions” by Gaylord Ho (“Sculptor of Emotions”)**

      I was having a really good dream this morning.  Apparently on the rare hours I actually scratch out a patch of sleep, I hit the deep R.E.M. cycles pretty good.  My dreams are so vivid.  I remember many of them immediately after words.  If I ponder long enough to recall them once or twice that day, chances are I’ll be able to recall them several weeks from now.

Yes, I was having a great dream.  In it I saw someone I knew a long time ago.  In this alternate yet parallel universe that is so full of life while I am comatose still in real life, everything seems twice as real.   Surreal.  I’m convinced a dreamer came up with the term.

This person was leaving a long red brick building and was wearing an oversized jacket, kind of like a detective jacket.  A scarf was draped around his neck.  Sunglasses on.  I was standing about twenty yards  away.  I smiled.  It had been decades in real life since our paths crossed.  Yet in real life I hardly knew him at all.  It’s not a love story.  It’s an acquaintance.  And yet.

In dreams, it’s always so much more than meets the eye.  Somehow you just know the next day, the dream had a deeper meaning than what just what meets the eye, this dark and silent mysterious place in the mind.  A place where words seem to have been spoken, yet when remembered, it was more like they were simply conveyed.

“Hello!” it felt as though I was shouting.  My heart felt as if it was racing but only in my dream, but why?  In real life, our paths would simply run parallel, never to converge, passing one another unaware.   He simply smiled and waved back at me.  Then he abruptly turned his face and walked away.  Or perhaps glided; it’s the everyday waking moments we take for granted that are more fuzzy upon recall in dreams.  I remember specific details of faces and places, how I felt, colors and their intensity, but everyday things like walking and talking are hazy and out of focus.

Other things happen in dreams too.  We move forward and backwards in time.  We are more free, and unhindered by things like age, occupation, wealth or health, relational dynamics, or even gravity.    This ability for the mind to morph our everyday reality into a super reality seemingly and effortlessly combines all that we actually are, all that we fear, and all that we hope to be converges to make a kind of soup of our real life stories.

“Woof!” “Woof, woof!!”  It’s our new puppy.  In real life. 

My eyes open and try and focus like a zoom lens struggling to find the light in a dark room.  It takes a while for them to dial in on the clock face and another moment to read the time.  4:11 am.

It’s that lucid moment when my dream is the freshest, on the very tip of my consciousness—the moment of perfect total recall. 

This man of mystery simply waved and had already walked on.

     “Wait!  Come back!” I’m internally shouting.   COME BACK!  It’s too late.  He  fades.  The moment in time has passed. It’s too late.  I won’t ever know what would have happened next. 

I throw back the covers and jump into my sweats that are still in the dropped position of where I left them.   I grab my jacket draped over the chair.  I hurry downstairs and let the puppy out to do his business.  It’s 4:13 in the morning and I’m in my back yard feeling like Lord Byron contemplating my dream and wondering what might have been.  If only…..what might have been.

Why did the dream mean so much in my mind when it wouldn’t even register as memorable in real life?  Does God whisper something we can’t quite understand in our dreams?   Why this person?  Why now?  What does it all mean?  And how come I can’t I stop thinking about it?

       I stand outside in real life a little longer.  I’m barefooted.  It’s freezing!  I just want to hurry up and get back to my over-sized bed with its thousand plus thread count Egyptian cotton sheets and super soft fuzzy blankets.    I just want to finish what I started.  But I know I never will.

What’s true in life, is also true in our dreams.  We have to stay in the dream to finish it.   We can’t let interruptions wake us up.  Oh, how they compete for our time though, do they not?    Reality is cold.  It nips at our heels and pushes us towards uncomfortable.   Yes, reality bites.  Life is hard.  Life is busy.  With dreams this much is the minimal requirement:  Stay the course anyway.

I’m back upstairs again and cozily burrowed again under my sea of blankets.   Ah!  Softness.  Warmth.  The great aphrodisiac of the exhausted is calling me:   Sleep, sleep tonight.  And may your dreams be realized.

**(Artistic Credit:  The sculpture above entitled “Visions” is described as “An angel with crystal ball.  The angel gazes into a a crystal ball as she looks for truth and compassion.  The crystal ball represents the earth, the environment, and all mankind.  The angel contemplates the wonder of it all.”  It is on display at The Wyland Gallery in Orlando, FL at Walt Disney World’s Polynesian Resort.)


There is a crack in everything; that is how the light gets in – “Anthem” – Leonard Cohen

       I’m having one of those days.  You know, a day where your brain is firing on all synapses simultaneously.  All the areas in life scream at you for attention!

“Mom, have you seen the…”

“Hey, where’s the….”

“We still don’t have any milk?”

“Dad, I need about $200 for…”

“Honey, I forgot to tell you, but by noon today, could you…”

Did you take care of this?  Did you call this person back?  Did you pay for this?  Register for that?   Finish your work project?  Mow the yard?  Pay the bills?

There’s something about forty-something, that makes you long for your own dream, a shiny new dream, especially if you have spent a long time responsibly meeting your obligations that largely orbit around other people you love.    There’s a name for this affliction of what some call selfishness.  The old MLC (mid- life crisis) comes itching, and all you want to do is scratch it.   It could be a new sports car, a prettier wife, a bigger boat.  It could be a shopping spree that would make the Kardashians seem thrifty, taking a trip where your family is not invited, or that delicious man on the side.  The depth of your shallowness astounds you when you ponder these thoughts.

Then suddenly–they pass.  Because thankfully for you, you’re just old enough, and though it bums your conscience, just wise enough to not do something really stupid.

But it does make you think about defining what your dream is.    When you start dreaming up life in a whole new way, well it causes this electrical storm in your head.   You don’t seem as “present” as you used to be in conversations and tasks.   There is a riptide that is carrying your soul to uncharted territory.  You feel yourself moving in a new direction.

This creates friction with the objects and people around you.  When you start operating other than the status quo, you’re often met with resistance.    When asked why there’s no milk, and you say because I didn’t want to go buy it, suddenly things start to fall out of orbit.   Negative and positive ions collide.    Electrical storms now reign in your world.

These are the words I sometimes say and yet can’t stand if they’re fired at me:

You should….

You never…..

You always…..

So I’m going to try harder to just button my lips, and quietly focus on my dream this week.   I am going to write; come hell or high water, come cliché or original flash of inspiration.    I am going to write if I’m joyful, or sad, or frustrated, or mad, or awed by something so magnificent that nobody else even sees.  I am going to write my truth as it is made known to me.   I’m going to play with word craft because I should.  Because you never and because you always…..  For all these reasons, and more, I’ll write.

Like loose electricity I feel words that are rushing to the surface to discharge.  But there is something beautiful in the process of craftwork.  It’s this:

Everyone knows in the eye of the storm is where the calm point is.  It’s where the pressure plummets, and the view in the sky is brilliant and peace just beams into your soul.    It’s the nerve center of inspiration and clarity.

So while the winds of change are unsettling, and the dark skies appear threatening to your stability; keep leaning into the storm.  Get to the core.  Look up, way up!  How cool is that?  Now brace yourself; it’s time to endure the rest of the storm so you can get to the other side.

Suggested Listening:  Electrical Storm – U2