thoughts from a dreamer

My dreams have always affected me more than most people. So much happens while I'm lying motionless in my bed each night. For this reason, most evenings I am held back by a slight sense of dread, knowing that the night that lies ahead could very well be more intense than the day I've just finished. Since childhood, I've had terrifyingly vivid dreams that I'm being chased and shot. Some of my more pleasant and profound dreams have prompted me to take action in some situations. I often wake up in the morning with a deep conviction that I've been spoken to through the images and happenings in my dreams. A few nights ago I had a thought-provoking and horrifying dream in which I eagerly reached out the window of a room in my childhood home to catch a beautiful bluebird, and then watched it turn black immediately and become beaten up and left for dead, all because I tried to grab it.

As I write these early in the morning, I am trying to discern why a good friend of mine showed up in my dream last night, with her head always turned away from me, and greenery growing on her head and arms. Just after I tried speaking with her, I was introduced to a revered artist, who upon meeting me, placed his hand on my back, looked into my eyes and said with excited assurance, "You've got a Warbler in there. I've got to hear it!" It could mean nothing at all, but because of past experience, I must look deeper and ask, "Is there something I'm supposed to learn from what I've seen?" I have a feeling that in the past, I've missed new insights into my life that were meant to reach me in this unconventional form. So I examine my dreams and allow them to speak to me. I welcome these experiences that feel so real, though they're only in my head.