I love how you ask questions and live into them Jeff. Your Picasso story made me think of “Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks”~Plutarch
Neil Young definitely knew that after the gold rush the harvest is in the ditch. In that catharsis we are free to arrive and when we disappear, only to arrive all over again. Something tells me your book will write you. Bless you. Beautiful article! 🙏❤️
Right. My good friend Matthew writes them down immediately after waking, and he says the more you do this, the more you can recall them. He also advocates just lying in bed awake and recalling them without jumping into your day.
Easy to do before the whole bladder problem emerged- not to be gross, but I’m old. I have a notebook on my nightstand. But sometimes they escape before I can formulate words. Then others make so much sense until I really examine them. Like yesterday, the woman kept talking about her “autumn belly” when she was pregnant. In reality, she is the grandmother of the little girl I dreamt about. I mulled this over and over. The little girl is special needs and I was in school with her, as she started drawing in art. “Mother” was pleased because she had become a late blooming artist. Because of this “autumn belly.” Maybe we women past sixty can still birth? Of course, we can.
I always have nightmares of home health work when I’m pondering what to do with my nursing career. Enough to tell me, don’t go back! Like a car wreck in a pond. Having to drive back and forth between two counties in one day- timing of labs or something. My favorite is when I have to walk everywhere with all my equipment and laptop, although we went to tablets my last job.
You're welcome, Olivia. I had so much fun with Michael on this one. He was so prompt and on the ball, and I literally spent months rearranging paragraphs only to put them back in the original order. I suppose that's something like how we try to make sense of a dream after we wake up.
"Have you ever woken up in the middle of a dream and tried to get back to it? But no matter how hard you tried and squeezed your eyes shut, you never could? I think childhood is like that: a picture so quickly fading that we wonder if any of it was real." I have been thinking about this for a while and want to write a novel capturing this feeling. Our past feel surreal. As if our past is a movie about other people and we remember a few scenes.
Michael, the illustrations were so in sync with the words! I especially enjoyed your illustration of the game 'telephone'; from daisy to rose! Great collaboration. Merrily, merrily...
Thanks so much, Jeanne! I really appreciate that. It was fun to work with the brilliant words Jeff had written and see what ideas sparked. I really enjoyed sketching out the 'telephone' game one.
“We made the drawings look just like the pictures. I stopped drawing after that.” Great observation. Derivative work doesn’t feed the soul. We have to find our authenticity. Also, regarding the changing meaning of things, Socrates distrusted the written word. Like the telephone party game, the authenticity of the original statement is lost or severely butchered by the end of the game. Sometimes I feel like we’re all trying to recapture our authenticity, perhaps buried in the innocence of our childhood.
I love this so much! By coincidence, I had the strangest dream last night. More like a nightmare. I dreamt that my 19-year-old cat was cold so I put her in the microwave to warm her up. She started crying in pain, so I took her out, realizing I had probably just killed her. Not sure what that could possibly be telling me. That was something I would never, never do. Disturbing. I actually feel a bit guilty so I am compensating by giving her extra pets today.
Dec 11, 2023·edited Dec 11, 2023Liked by Jeff Goins, Michael Young
This is well-timed. After weeks, maybe months, of having no vivid dreams I've had two unshakable ones this past weekend. I can remember them in great detail. They represent deep change and emergence into something new, in my opinion. I've always had lucid dreams (full sensory experiences) right before profound shifts. The night before I married my first husband (which I was far too young to do at 22!) I dreamed of "waking up" in a great desert, accompanied by cloaked individuals, at least 100 of them. They ushered me along, they were going somewhere in a great hurry but maintained a sense of peace in their procession. Their eyes were too big for their faces, and looked at me with great concern... I was to follow them, so I did. I ended up at the mouth of a cave --- they entered, I hesitated. A beautiful, tall man then stood in front of me -- he was dark with long hair. He, too, had huge eyes -- he looked at me with concern and motioned for me to enter. I didn't. Some might think it was a "Jesus" image, I don't put any labels on it -- it was what it was. I felt love and sadness from the collective. That day I walked down the aisle, 6 years later we said goodbye. With love and sadness.
I've always been a person that dreams so real, I can wake up tired because of all that was happening in them. I've dreamt of people I don't know and later will see them in real life only to feel as if I know them... Since my only child/son Michael Joseph's passing on 1/3/22, I long for dreams of him - sadly I've only had a few. These days I wake up every morning hoping that the past two years have been a bad dream that I would not write in my journal - I don't think life ever turns out the way we think it will...
Thanks for sharing, Stephanie. And I’m sorry for your loss. It sounds like you have have some very powerful dreams. I hope you get to share some more moments in your dreams with your son.
I love how you ask questions and live into them Jeff. Your Picasso story made me think of “Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks”~Plutarch
Neil Young definitely knew that after the gold rush the harvest is in the ditch. In that catharsis we are free to arrive and when we disappear, only to arrive all over again. Something tells me your book will write you. Bless you. Beautiful article! 🙏❤️
Thank you, Jamie. Love that Plutarch quote. My wife has been reading "Moralia."
Ah soul deep reading. The chicken or the egg of spirituality. I’d love to be a fly on the wall in that conversation! Thanks for sharing! 🙏❤️
Not sure what to say. Maybe I’m attracted to photography and art because my writing is mood oriented. I’m discovering that, but dreams drive my plots.
Incidentally, I had the strangest dream last night.
But remembering the dreams. That has been a problem for quite some time, except for the ones I recall, then they haunt me for days.
Right. My good friend Matthew writes them down immediately after waking, and he says the more you do this, the more you can recall them. He also advocates just lying in bed awake and recalling them without jumping into your day.
Easy to do before the whole bladder problem emerged- not to be gross, but I’m old. I have a notebook on my nightstand. But sometimes they escape before I can formulate words. Then others make so much sense until I really examine them. Like yesterday, the woman kept talking about her “autumn belly” when she was pregnant. In reality, she is the grandmother of the little girl I dreamt about. I mulled this over and over. The little girl is special needs and I was in school with her, as she started drawing in art. “Mother” was pleased because she had become a late blooming artist. Because of this “autumn belly.” Maybe we women past sixty can still birth? Of course, we can.
Sounds like you're capturing plenty of details. :)
When they stick in my head...
I always have nightmares of home health work when I’m pondering what to do with my nursing career. Enough to tell me, don’t go back! Like a car wreck in a pond. Having to drive back and forth between two counties in one day- timing of labs or something. My favorite is when I have to walk everywhere with all my equipment and laptop, although we went to tablets my last job.
Such a great post! Thank you.
You're welcome, Olivia. I had so much fun with Michael on this one. He was so prompt and on the ball, and I literally spent months rearranging paragraphs only to put them back in the original order. I suppose that's something like how we try to make sense of a dream after we wake up.
Thanks, Olivia!
Brilliant post. Dreams are whispers of the soul.
Oooh, fascinating. I believe it.
"Have you ever woken up in the middle of a dream and tried to get back to it? But no matter how hard you tried and squeezed your eyes shut, you never could? I think childhood is like that: a picture so quickly fading that we wonder if any of it was real." I have been thinking about this for a while and want to write a novel capturing this feeling. Our past feel surreal. As if our past is a movie about other people and we remember a few scenes.
Yes.
A rich contemplation on the enigmatic nature of existence, the creative process, and the unpredictable paths our lives may take.
Nicely said, Winston.
Delicious! I'm full and satisfied. Check, please!
Thanks, Igga!
I love the collaboration here. The illustrations complement the words really well!
Thank you! I appreciate the kind words. I certainly did my best to try and honour the writing :)
Michael, the illustrations were so in sync with the words! I especially enjoyed your illustration of the game 'telephone'; from daisy to rose! Great collaboration. Merrily, merrily...
...life is but a dream!
Thanks so much, Jeanne! I really appreciate that. It was fun to work with the brilliant words Jeff had written and see what ideas sparked. I really enjoyed sketching out the 'telephone' game one.
Life is but a dream....
Read every word, affirming.
“We made the drawings look just like the pictures. I stopped drawing after that.” Great observation. Derivative work doesn’t feed the soul. We have to find our authenticity. Also, regarding the changing meaning of things, Socrates distrusted the written word. Like the telephone party game, the authenticity of the original statement is lost or severely butchered by the end of the game. Sometimes I feel like we’re all trying to recapture our authenticity, perhaps buried in the innocence of our childhood.
Well said, John.
Loved it 🙌 And I had to restack that Neil Young story: success is freedom!
'Success is freedom'. I love that.
Haha. So good. That comes from the documentary "Don't Be Denied." Hard to find but so, so good. https://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/neil-young-dont-be-denied/1152/
Thanks for sharing Jeff! I cannot wait to get into this doc!! 🙌
I love this so much! By coincidence, I had the strangest dream last night. More like a nightmare. I dreamt that my 19-year-old cat was cold so I put her in the microwave to warm her up. She started crying in pain, so I took her out, realizing I had probably just killed her. Not sure what that could possibly be telling me. That was something I would never, never do. Disturbing. I actually feel a bit guilty so I am compensating by giving her extra pets today.
Haha, whoops. ;)
I also had a pretty strange dream last night, incidentally.
This is well-timed. After weeks, maybe months, of having no vivid dreams I've had two unshakable ones this past weekend. I can remember them in great detail. They represent deep change and emergence into something new, in my opinion. I've always had lucid dreams (full sensory experiences) right before profound shifts. The night before I married my first husband (which I was far too young to do at 22!) I dreamed of "waking up" in a great desert, accompanied by cloaked individuals, at least 100 of them. They ushered me along, they were going somewhere in a great hurry but maintained a sense of peace in their procession. Their eyes were too big for their faces, and looked at me with great concern... I was to follow them, so I did. I ended up at the mouth of a cave --- they entered, I hesitated. A beautiful, tall man then stood in front of me -- he was dark with long hair. He, too, had huge eyes -- he looked at me with concern and motioned for me to enter. I didn't. Some might think it was a "Jesus" image, I don't put any labels on it -- it was what it was. I felt love and sadness from the collective. That day I walked down the aisle, 6 years later we said goodbye. With love and sadness.
Wow.
I've always been a person that dreams so real, I can wake up tired because of all that was happening in them. I've dreamt of people I don't know and later will see them in real life only to feel as if I know them... Since my only child/son Michael Joseph's passing on 1/3/22, I long for dreams of him - sadly I've only had a few. These days I wake up every morning hoping that the past two years have been a bad dream that I would not write in my journal - I don't think life ever turns out the way we think it will...
Thanks for sharing, Stephanie. And I’m sorry for your loss. It sounds like you have have some very powerful dreams. I hope you get to share some more moments in your dreams with your son.