Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.
I’ve talked about living my dreams before, and lately I’ve been doing a fair bit of dreaming on the page, where dreams pass into the reality of action. Writing fiction is the best form of daydreaming, but sometimes I find my dreams at night intriguing, too.
Last night I dreamed I was a teenager again, and beside me sat a small child, who was trying to be helpful.
I was trying to give her a ride on my bike, but the pedals wouldn’t move, so I took them apart (something I would never do in real life), and then, I took the plate in which the pedals sat and thought of (what I imagined) a wonderful idea.
I would put in cake batter, shut it, and as I pedaled away, the plate would warm up and at the end of a few miles, we would have this cake to eat!
The child helped me break the eggs, whip the batter, and stir in raisins and walnuts. And then off we went, but instead of the cake, of course we had goo pouring down the pedals and into my shoes.
I was so upset when I woke up. All that batter gone to waste, and that disappointed child at the end of the trip.
I know I have a little girl in a current WIP who doesn’t have much good in store for her, so my subconscious is possibly trying to make her happy in its own weird way, and failing miserably. It is my book leaking into my dreams, and now the dream has leaked into my day.
What do you dream most often about? Do you write down your dreams?