Dream beast...

It’s so foggy out it looks like they forgot to put the world out this morning.
Which is ironic considering the clarity I awoke with.

The crossover from vibrant, bouyant dreams to the dull and dangerous waking world is a tough one. I find myself in those first few minutes of consciousness paralyzed in bed, trying to gobble up as much residual dream flesh as I can, knowing I have tasted the food of the gods, the highest form of nutrition one can consume in preparation for the day ahead. Of course it is fleeting, but the nourishment, the potential energy, is real. I feel that the depth of our dreams is directly tied to two things: the extent to which we challenged and exposed ourselves to new things the day before, and the type of energy with which we approach the day ahead.

Some days we are spindly sea birds flapping pathetically in the crude oil spills of our soul. Other days we are profoundly aloft beings, deeply engaged emotionally and intellectually with the people and the world around us. The key to achieving the latter, I believe, is to feed your dream beast so it can do its cinematic work and feed you back; magically unraveling the knots you've tied so tight in your being with powerful, mysterious, and freeing images.

(Photo by Glen Luchford)