Dream Walking

So here I am back from the far East. Ok, maybe not so far, Newfoundland (pronounced New fin lan). The inspiration is overflowing and I have a newfound sense of direction and determination. Something about all that rock, ocean and unpredictable weather, but mostly I think it was the very visible history.

Something weird happened while I was there. No, it wasn’t alcohol induced but that’s not for lack of trying ;). I had a dream. In my dream two fixes for Echoes presented themselves in full detailed glory.

This seemed very fitting as Echoes draws heavily on the subconscious experiences like dreams and visions. But like everything, this also comes with a ‘but’. In my dream I can remember thinking, this isn’t real. I expected to wake up with that same old dream hangover. You know it, the leftover feel of the dream, emotions and such, but only vague and scattered images of it.

Thing is, while I did have that dream hangover, one of the ‘fixes’ broke through the veil and escaped into the waking world intact. Unfortunately the second did not but not for lack of me exhaustively dredging my mental lake for its body.

Now I don’t put much stock in dreams holding meaning. They are the cumulation of our hopes and fears and are focused mostly on a particular or current anxiety. I also don’t put much stock in pretty much anything I can’t explain, which seems odd considering that I am a writer, of fiction even. I don’t dismiss it, I just tend to hold it at arms length.

Throw in that I am strongly mathematically inclined. Math was simply a puzzle that I had to solve whereas English always seemed arbitrary to me. It’s amazing to me that words now hold that magic I used to see in math. They are a puzzle, like a Rubik’s Cube, for me to play with, to arrange to my liking, to create with like Play-doh.

So for me to say that this dream fix jumped from dream fantasy to real life, you now understand my total shock. In fact it sayed with me, never-fading, until the plane trip home where I had three hours to pry it out of my head and splash it in its full gory onto my computer screen.

It’s lumpy and awkward like a new-born deer but it’s there none the less.

I walked in my dreams and brought back a prize. Is anyone else, out there, as frightened by that as I am? What else could I bring back on my next trip?