I've been waking up the past few days with shadows of very vivid dreams, dreams I can't remember after only minutes of being awake. it's so bizzare. It's like details of my subconscious life are being brushed aside and replaced by the sound of an alarm, the smell of coffee, the taste of cinnamon toast. While the morning routine brings me a certain amount of comfort, I feel like I'm robbing myself of a good story, or a strong emotion, or an insight into what I'm thinking and how.
Dreams are power. They allow us to face fears or escape from them. I remember the first and only time I realized I was dreaming. That was also the first and only time I've ever flown in my dream.
I can't help but wonder, though, if our minds are this powerful in our sleep, while we aren't focusing our thoughts, why are we held back in our waking hours? Why do we limit ourselves so much with clutter and incidental bullshit, instead of enjoying the simple focus and joy of a child?