The little one has traded the tangible world overflowing with good, and not so good realities, for Dreamland.
Dreamland, that open space within the mind, where the vastness of one's wakeful hours are limited only by what the alert mind restricts itself to, or dares to dream in moments of uninhibited, conscious contemplation and action, or inaction...inertia.
Physically, audibly within my waking realm, she sleeps, snores, breathes evenly and peacefully, her eyelids fluttering like a hummingbird observed from behind the shadows of a window in the country...
There she goes, quickly winding her way around the territories of her subconscious, her vehicle the rise, and fall of her chest, elucidating for herself all that she sees; maybe I am in there with her when she giggles out here in this realm where I jot down, mostly for myself, my thoughts about my slumbering daughter, me, to whom she has bequeathed the sanctity of her repose, until I too, close my eyes & lose myself in the Dreamlands of my own mind's chosen creation.
Creation?
Well, that exists right here, right now, all around us in real living colour, and black and white too, while simultaneously collecting data to project an intricately woven design, within the complex interior structures of mindful sleep...deconstructing the Dreamer's dream by throwing open the doors to alternate realities.
Right?
Who knows.
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Dreamed I was walking through a beautiful forest at dusk and stumbled upon an abandoned asylum for the insane. The front doors were huge slabs of rusted steel, they opened easily on the hinges. I walked into an open room, a staircase to the left, an office to the right with a room beyond. I moved towards the room, peeked in and the lights were on. I began to enter, but noticed further to my left, a darkened room & felt a presence. I turned and walked back to the main entrance, struggled to open the door - there was a great, unseen resistance as I fought to place my left leg between the door and frame, managed to overpower the invisible resistance and pushed my body through. Into the night air, I ran down the path towards the forest thinking If come back the next day, it will be with an entourage. Got to my mothers, soaked from the rain. I stripped off my sweater beside the house and stood in a white linen blouse. I climbed the stairs of the back porch, peeled off my soaked jeans and hung them over the rail. Walked into the house and went down to my room where Mekhi slept soundly. waiting for the Easter bunny. The house shifted, grew larger. I heard people talking. Family members laughing. There was a side door on the north side, a cousin walked in and said someone was chopping wood across the road. My cousin and auntie who lived across the road were at mom's - who could be chopping wood across the road? I poked my head outside, looked across the road, could not see the person behind the high snowbanks, though I saw the black axe head swing up and just as quickly, go smashing down in a cracking echo of sound as it struck the block of wood. As I watched, I could sense the person's strength. I walked back into the house. My girl was awake. I brought her back to our room, snuggled with her until she fell back asleep. Returned to the main floor just as another cousin walked in and said 'I think Mama is outside shovelling snow.' My Aunt Bernice, sensing my concern laughed and said it was ok. Mama was strong enough to shovel snow. My grandmother had passed away when I was 20. How could she be over there shovelling snow on such a special visit? She should be with us, just as Bernice was on her visit from the other side. Everyone laughing and joyful. I ran out to my back porch, threw on my jeans, grabbed a pair of boots and raced through the north door. The only person across the road was still chopping wood, not shovelling snow. The head of the axe still connected and echoed strongly against blocks of wood. The chopper faced south as she worked. I was going over to tell my Grandmother she shouldn't be chopping wood and I'd do it for her if the task had to be done right at that moment. * Outside Dreamland, my iPhone's harp alarm sounded at 3:00 a.m. so I could perform my Easter Bunny duties, and before I was even fully awake, I had swung my legs out of bed thinking I had to hurry to my a Grandmother. I had to remind myself I was still dreaming, that my alarm was sounding, that I needed to wake up and turn it off. My eyes felt as heavy as the steel doors of the abandoned insane asylum as I struggled to open them. I woke up feeling drained and exhausted, was standing with my phone in hand, alarm turned off. I walked out of the room, and pulled the hidden Easter goodies out from beside the dryer, then I heard the light creak of floor boards nearby. I tucked the stash back into hiding, opened the door, moved towards my girl & noticed she was fake sleeping. As I crawled in to snuggle beside her so she'd fall back asleep - she pretended to wake up, smile on her face, 'Good morning Mommy.' Me: It's not morning. It's the middle of the night & the bunny hasn't passed yet. Eventually she fell back asleep & I had an hour (between 6:30-7:30 a.m.) to make a mad dash to hide eggs... Got it done in the nick of time. ...and they lived. No. Not happily ever after! They simply lived. Right here. Right now. In space & time, between the moments of truth and lies. ...and the end, begins anew. |