Unsolicited Dreams A Cosmic Matter of Undistorted Conscious Perception

Let’s explore the intricately secretly coded symbolic world of unrestricted personality in our dreams. Dreams…Everybody dreams, but not everybody remembers his/her dreams.

Dreams filter/process/ integrate/display [for individual panoramic view] daily undigested visual images: [no matter how distorted and fragmented] The casually ‘cast off’ emotional debris of things, people, places or events we won't or can't (not ready, yet) process/assimilate/digest in the waking hours of our lives.

No matter how small or insignificant, a daily meaningful trigger is set off to invoke an unobstructed view of informative splendor. Whether You, Me, Freud, Jung, or your Aunt Sally are under the microscope, people are fascinated by the content and interpretation of dreams. Rightly, so.

Dreams reveal so much unanalyzed enlightened material, if one is up for the process of undulated material. The varying disjointed themes in our dreams reveal themselves by openly disputing a tightly held notion we try to hide from ourselves.

The awkward play of consistent unacknowledged easily discarded material- which defiantly-peeks its little blaring head of definitive gnawing alerted caution signs, in the middle of our casually indifferent daily conversations, will not be so rudely dismissed. We engage heartily, without reservation or barriers (full blown, at night, the seething dragon of discontent) once we have dropped the subtle hint in broad daylight.

It’s a ‘slip of the tongue’ unsuspecting ‘horror’ we don’t necessarily want to deal with, so we conveniently cast it aside; like it’s going someplace else without a fight. No such chance. The beacon of solitary illuminated light will shine again in full animated intensity when we close our eyes to try to sleep.

 Dreams are fascinatingly supportive (inspiring) in arrival and lingeringly haunting in departure. They portray a wide spectrum of inevitable events camouflaged in an array of hodge-podge nonsense, (or so it seems) making it so much easier and self-satisfyingly appropriate to dismiss them. Or, so we think.

 But, as with any fluid nebulous apparition of merit, like a disgruntled child, who will not leave the premise until listened to, we must tend to inundating persistence of our dreams.

Full of inclusive clues to our happiness and well-being, {as well as, topics of unresolved worry/guilt/concern}these underscored messages of seemingly bizarre concoctions are full of innocuous, though relevant, signs, symbols and omens of personal impervious relent. We need our dreams as much as we need to breathe.

Necessary for the erecting of balance while walking on insanity’s razor’s edge, we simply can not exist without them. When we are conscious (debatable term), in the time we are awake, and focusing on achieving a specific goal or target, we mistake the incongruous derivative for genuine substance.

We go barreling through the hours of the day in carefully planned hopes to gain something, do something, see something, feel something and last, but certainly not least, ‘be’ something. But, in the hedonic rush of the hour, we forget everything’s alright—ALL right. Nothing to do, no where to go, nothing to see, and no one to be but whatever is occurring in the moment.

We never seem to be where our feet are but needlessly rushing and fuming about in order to ‘get ahead.’ Our dreams, if heeded, will slow us down, cause to ponder IF we are so inclined to stop for a few moments to read the pages in the deferential ‘book of life’.

We literally stand before ourselves to view the content of our day mind’s unrelenting turbulent activity, but more importantly, examine unbiasedly, the impetus behind the activity. The unconscious (the capricious demon of inexplicability) holds all the ubiquitous elements that provide the substance of our days. He/she/it will not be ignored or dismissed.

Inexplicably woven and intermitted purposefully disguised dreams. Never before has the time so afforded us the applicable season to pay attention to the ‘burnt offerings’ laid upon the altar of our combustible inconsistent potent lives.

We can turn into the lush vividly peppered interior landscape for perpetual vital direction. We can choose to answer the call of duty to pay homage to our soul’s desire in genuine experience.

Authentically, we are learning [slowly and methodically, resituating, at times] to remember what is truly important at the exact moment we dream our pertinent play is the message of the hour: nothing else!

 If we realize with full certainty that the only way out is in, maybe, just maybe, our dreams will diminish our long held fear, eradicate our conditioned attitudes and reconnect us with our enthusiastically inspired artistically infused divine mission in sanctified self-hood.