there is a whisper thin thread of ethereal nothingness that separates this plane from the others. this gossamer of 'reality' separates all the planes. And yet, as humans....we cling so tightly to this realm as the "real world." The truth is...they are ALL real worlds. And on the OTHER worlds, WE know this.
It is only here we have forgotten.
This is why we dream.
If I were going to start my manual of truth and light, it would start something like the above passage. But I'm not going all commune on you just yet. The above passage is really more to give you some background in to how I think about things. And will make the true intro to this passage make a little more sense (at least that's the hope).
When I fall asleep in this world, and wake up in what I call the 'dream world', I usually do so willingly. I don't always allow myself to remember when I fall asleep in that world and wake back up in this one but I do know I have a perfect day over there. And it usually goes a little like this.
I wake up and after my stretch....yawn...scratch in various places, I head in to the kitchen to make breakfast. The dog is at the door, so I let her out. Ellie. Named after my beloved Whippet, Elouise. I don't have a whippet here, though, there are no fences around this house and I'd be too afraid a whippet would get on a sight and get lost, never to return. And that would break my heart. No...Ellie is an Elk Hound. Like my Shag was when I was spending summers on Mamaw and Papaw's farm.
In fact, I look across the creek and see the farmhouse that was my second home as a boy. You see, in dreamland, I've already left the big city. Built my cabin with wraparound porch and spend most of my year down in Kentucky.
After breakfast, Ellie is at my feet while I read. A writer has to be a reader first and I have found an appetite for books that I don't quite have (I did, but it has diminished slightly) in this realm. But in DreamLand, it's there. and after reading for a bit, we go for a walk. The land of my family farm in DreamLand is untouched and hasn't left the family. When we walk these lands, it is a walk with my ancestors.
A light lunch is next. Then, I grab the lapdesk and laptop and a pad and pen and head to the porch. I don't always know until I start writing if it will be laptop or pen and paper (some things are true for me in all realms, apparently).
I write...nap....write...stretch...walk....for the rest of the afternoon. Making and eating dinner and then some form of entertainment....playing or listening to music....a movie...or the like rounds out the evening.
Depending on how clear the night is, a picnic blanket under the stars may be in order.
And then bed. Where I fall asleep in that world, only to dream of a weird world where I live alone in an apartment and go to work each day for a retail company specializing in computers and technology.
So...when I say that I'm off to Dreamland to work on a few ideas....now you know what that means (I'm making an assumption that many of you used to actually see when I posted that kind of stuff on the bookfacer.)
You wanna know what the best part of 'Dreamland' is? I've been there. In this realm. This past weekend, I got to experience much of what I dream of on a regular basis. Not only do I have vivid memories of the land from when I was growing up....each trip down there is like being awake and navigating in my dream spot.
It's at once trippy and awesome.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
In case you're wondering....the pen and paper won out this past weekend as the preferred medium.
I round out my evening with nothing but a pure feeling of being blessed beyond measure. How many people know what their true passion is? Let alone have set foot on this realm in a place they call upon in their dreams?
Goodnight my friends
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