My happy dreams of last night weren't just of Elvis holding teddy bears. I dreamt that I had woke in my dream to being in bed. This is like something Oprah would talk about as astral projection or something. I woke up in my dream & I realized that my bed was rolling around the streets of NYC. Strange, I know. I was laughing & so happy as the bed surfed though intersections & made rights on quite Chelsea brownstone streets.
Cut to:
Disneyland.
I was traveling with an old man and the young asian boy from Indian Jones & the Temple of Doom. We were in midst of a beautiful adventure that felt as safe as a trip with Disneyland. We were walking through haunted manisons and through underwater cities. We were captured by wonder with the details of these places.
And then I woke up smiling. It sounds absolutely silly but I woke myself with laughter before, which had been more frightening. This time I was so well rested, I felt at complete peace and I had a smile on my face. These are all the small signs of life walking in alignment with purpose. None of these dreams made much sense to me, mostly a bunch of nonsense, but at the end of a long cognitive day, with a brow of heavy sleep, and morning sweeping across the Californian land. It is not so much the dream as it is the feeling. I felt great and I wasn't even worried about traffic, work, or my love life. I just felt damn good. It was a happy end to a night of dreams and a yet more brilliant awakening. I like to cherish the small gifts of life.
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