You dream of a new world to come, a new world to be birthed, a new dream to be dreamt. In the dream, a flower grows, a lotus from which the creator and the creation will unfold. From which light will begin to shine upon this vast dark sea, unveiling all the magic sleeping within. From this flower, infinite worlds and universes will be born. Each will contain a seed of light. And these seeds will light the heavens for all to guide their journeys by.
The reflection on the surface of the water is often mistaken for the mysteries that lie beneath. Likewise, the reflection of the moon is mistaken for its own light. In the quest for wisdom, each person must emerge from the illusions of the world and begin the journey towards the sacred mountain.
Whatever some people might say, it seems to me that a world in which I can fly, bend space and time, and meet with people who have been dead for years, deserves more consideration than it gets. If I weigh the waking world on one side of the scale and the dream world on the other, which one is more substantial? Doesnβt a world of endless possibilities seem more likely to contain the whole of our lives than the fraction of the world that we call real?
A dream is not to be taken lightly. A dream is a powerful ally, coming to your aid. A magic tale, written in invisible ink. A golden thread, tying together the worlds.
A Dream is not a Dream if you let go of it that easily. Each day I feed in more Stubborness and Grit to it. Because calling it quits will always be an option!
Sometimes I have trouble telling my dreams from reality. The farther I travel from some experience, the more unsure I am that it actually happened. Just like a dream, the closer I am to it, the more sure I am that it's real.