Wednesday, February 23, 2011


Sussah, of angels and people/life in New Orleans, left this comment on my previous post:
Do you have sleeping dreams so sweet? I hope so.
These past few days I've been contemplating a blog entry centered around a long-recurring dream where the light in the dream matches the light in the photo below. But I know that other people's dreams are dull dull dull, and so I've prevented myself from going any further with this theme until I read Sussah's comment.

Sussah: you're in my head!

One of the (many) wonders of technology is that I've been able to reproduce, through photographic manipulation, the intense blue-green light of a dream from which I always awaken feeling exhilarated, stunned with the possibilities that life offers.

So if I haven't lost you yet, here it is:

In the dream, I arise about an hour before dawn, to a mostly-sleeping universe, except for myself and maybe one or two other people. And we are suspended -- in time & this luminous light -- for several hours. Nothing much happens other than the fact of our being present and allowing this light into our consciousness. It's a balm, a restorative, a limbo of peace with the intense awareness of everything being right coupled with a heightened sense of reality. If I could go there every night, I would.

When Jodie Foster, in the movie Contact, stands on a beach with her long-dead father, we don't know if she's in an altered state of consciousness or has successfully navigated to an alternate universe -- but -- the screen was lit up with that same light from my dream.

In Philip Pullman's book The Subtle Knife, Will Parry discovers an invisible opening into another dimension, and while there finds a knife which allows its bearer the capability of "cutting entries into countless other worlds." [Random House] Is the dream my metaphorical knife? If so, I want to hold it in my hand, honed to a keen edge.


  1. Out of the body, transcendent, oceanic. In the dream, you float in a blue-green air and look down on blue-green earth. Do you know the few people who are with you?

  2. Dear T., one of these nights, I'll see you there! it sounds like a welcome change from the frustrations of daily life. thanks, sp

  3. To sleep, perchance to dream. I used to have wonderful abstract Calm v Chaos dreams. I always woke exhausted.

  4. I dream, every night T...and generally remember my dreams. Mostly I wake because to continue the dream would be exhausting.
    I would like to have some of your light in mine.

  5. Mim, I'm actually very in the body -- it feels almost like lucid dreaming. Doesn't matter who's there....

  6. Cro, those dreams that leave one exhausted are always a bit troubling. Some nights I wonder why I even went to sleep.

  7. Jacqueline, you're welcome to come and "visit" in the dream any time!

  8. Dreams, alternate universes...the experiences of others, especially so clearly told, are far from dull. To be able to recreate the light feels like a key, the bridge between waking and sleeping, the road back to the "other" place. I believe there are dimensions, quite real, that are, for now, only accessible in altered states.

    WV - foray

  9. what a stunning contemplation, such a healing peace-giving dream. and that photo is just beautiful. i hope to see you in that place in our dreams some evening. it looks and sounds like a magnificent place to happen upon. how lucky you are that it lives in your dreaming self.

    thank you so much for stopping by my blog and leaving a comment, even more because now i have found you!

  10. oh, yeah. luscious!