Dreamers and Makers

The Wild Universe

Dreamers and Makers

The Wild Universe

Cookie Jane is master of the nap. She sleeps so soundly and is highly intuitive. Cookie naturally follows her snout or her intuition. Today, CJ meditates on being and dreaming

Dreams are feral and without guile. Even when a writer tries her best to capture the ephemeral clouds of the mind, she never completely communicates the actual experience of the dreamer.

The best we can hope for is a colorful story. When applied to memoir, I’ve found it challenging to describe or net the rare, wild butterfly memories of technicolor dreams.

Similarly, like a photographer attempting to capture double rainbows against the bluest of spring skies, she finds herself quite disappointed.

What is it then about dream and memory that fascinates us so on a primal level?

Why do so many of us become dream hunters?

Like explorers in new lands or scientists seeking and unlocking secrets of consciousness, DNA, or the Universe itself, we are seekers entranced by life’s mysteries.

And all this time, we think we are awake. Are we? Or is it all just layers of dreaming wakefulness woven from infinite love?

How do we excavate experiences like spirit or soul? How do souls connect? Maybe it is the shared connections of dreams that we call memoir, wild facts roaring at the sun in unison with her flames. Maybe it is in the connecting that our bodies fall away and our souls truly sing creating sweet and discordant, divine melodic harmonies for generations.

Writing memoir, especially about trauma, is like trying to capture molecules in the palm of your hand.

So what to do with these mysteries of being? Perhaps the very act of dreaming is a creative act. Dreams are art and we are the makers. Maybe it is in the act of creating poetry, memoir, music, or dance that we come closest to our dreams. Maybe it is in the making that our wild hearts are utterly free.