Rising from the undefended realms of sleep, today I felt the lingering effects of a warming, open-armed, sweet and convincing dream. There was an edgeless gentleness that floated with the utter conviction that sleep provides. It was completely cozy, wondrous without any blither.
Once fully awake, this sunny day was here to greet me -- bright, but very hard and cold. "Harsh" did not seem too harsh a word ... not a world that dealt kindly with warming dreams. "Wake up!" this world called out clearly and without remorse. "Wake up and smell the roses!" Of course there are no roses on this wintry day, so the invitation was the invitation of the savvy soul -- as etched in its wisdoms as the frigid air was in its.
And the dream receded like camp fire smoke -- wispier and wispier until, voila! -- there was the savvy soul with its explanations and beliefs, defensive as a genius, with no need of wonder ... full of "wake up" assurance that was so capable and refined.
The cozy dream meets the frigidity of dawn. What is undefended raises its defensive perimeters.
And sometimes I wonder if our wake-up calls are not really an invitation to dream and be warm, to have no excuse for this healed and healing time. A place without excuse and purring. No salesmen need apply.
Despite the piercing cold, I think it is good to dream honest dreams.