Thoughts and visions during the night; sights and sounds in slumber. These supposed imaginings and horrors- why do we call them dreams? In doing so, have we made them less real? Do we diminish their significance in considering them mere involuntary manifestations?
I often wonder if indeed they are vibratory remnants of cosmic memories, having more substance than we care to permit ourselves to accept.
Upon waking, they are already imprinted in our own memory. Their existence is real and actual, even should they be only visual representations of unconscious thoughts and ideas.
Rachelle LeCount
[I may be reworking this at a later date, as is sometimes the case. Or perhaps adding to it later. Maybe. We'll see.]
I'll close this post with some thoughts from Evelyn Underhill (I love reading her).
“All men, at one time or another, have fallen in love with the veiled Isis whom they call Truth. With most, this has been a passing passion: they have early seen its hopelessness and turned to more practical things. But others remain all their lives the devout lovers of reality: though the manner of their love, the vision which they make to themselves of the beloved object varies enormously. Some see Truth as Dante saw Beatrice: an adorable yet intangible figure, found in this world yet revealing the next. To others she seems rather an evil but an irresistible enchantress: enticing, demanding payment and betraying her lover at the last. Some have seen her in a test tube, and some in a poet’s dream: some before the altar, others in the slime. The extreme pragmatists have even sought her in the kitchen; declaring that she may best be recognized by her utility. Last stage of all, the philosophic sceptic has comforted an unsuccessful courtship by assuring himself that his mistress is not really there.”
- Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism
Other posts:
Pegs & Holes
Wishing for Sidewalks
