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On numerous occasions, my family and I have sat around discussing reality. I have always loved to entertain the thought of dreams as real, and I believe this quite fully. In dreams you are just as alive and awake as you are in the awake world! Why do we think this place is real, and the dream place imaginary? This place is equally imaginary.

In the past, I would act as a prophet and tell people in dreams that they were not real. I told them that their home was a dream, not a real place. A small few believed me, but most of them closed their minds to what I told them. They’d look at me unbelievingly, disappear, or get angry. The few who believed me were my favorites. They, I believed, were intellectual, intelligent people.

In dreams I have vivid memories of other dreams. The memories are of dreams I don’t remember having. It seems as if I am carrying on another life, in another place, this very moment. This life is merely a dream, from my perspective. And dreams are not mere strings of our imaginations. They are life. And life is a dream. And dreams are life. And I’ll leave you with this nursery rhyme, which in my younger days, would send chills up my spine.

Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream.
-Eliphalet Oram Lyte

©02/07/09