Since November is ( for those who live in the U.S.) the month of Thanksgiving, I want to take the next three weeks to make daily posts about things I am grateful for. There was an old hymn I heard growing up called “Count your blessings”. So since I believe gratitude begets blessings, (and we could use a little more of that,) Come with me as we go on this journey of thankfulness.
“A candy-colored clown they call the sandman
Tiptoes to my room every night. Just to sprinkle stardust and to whisper,
“Go to sleep. Everything is all right.” “In Dreams” Roy Orbison
Well, I can not speak for everyone but at least for me, Will was right. I am the stuff that dreams are made of. Today I am grateful for Dreams both the literal and figurative types.
On your average night, I usually don’t remember what I dreamed about the night before. Last night, for example, is lost to me But when I do they are usually pretty intense. I guess I am lucky most of the dreams I recall are fanciful or at the very least benign. I rarely have frightening dreams now but I used to a lot as a child. Many of my dreams involve me living a different life entirely. A small child in England in the 1950s and a French sailor in Egypt are too common recurring ones. I also have lucid dreams a lot ( dreams where you become aware that you are dreaming and begin to direct the dream). They are a real source of creativity for me and a lot of poems have been written in my sleep. What other people dream about is fascinating to me.
But more important than the literal dreams are the figurative ones. There’s a song by Peter Gabriel called “Mercy Street” and there’s a passage I like that goes:
“looking down on empty streets, all she can see
are the dreams all made solid
are the dreams all made real
all of the buildings, all of those cars
were once just a dream
in somebody’s head”
Most of the good things (and sadly bad things) in the world started in the savage garden of imagination. What we affirm or deny shapes so much of who we are and who we will or will not become. That’s why it is so important to gird ourselves verbally with children and be mindful of the damage our words can do.. Once that toxic waters of negativity begins to flow it is a difficult stream to ford. Those voices we hear as a child become our own many times as adults.
The good news is it is never too late to affirm the positive. We don’t have to wait for Spring. Thank you for the healing power of affirmative imagination. And to all those who have supported it in me with kind words and thoughtful actions. May I become increasingly aware and mindful of this and reflect it forward as well.