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[Dear John… For My Dream Reader]

Well, this is new! I remembered a dream. I always know I’ve dreamt, but actually remembering one is up there with remembering where I put my keys. Though, I did get smart and began actually putting them in my Hermione Granger endless bag. But that’s all beside the point. I remembered a dream. It was a startling dream, one which had me sitting up in the dark, wondering what part of myself was trying to kill me.

And I’m sure you’re wondering what does this have to do with my dream reader? Well, let me tell you, by sheer happenstance, I came to an understanding of just who was who; who was the writer and who was the reader. I know that sounds like I’ve lost my marbles, and I actually did that when I was just a wee one (I think it was a one of those marbles which remind me of a psychadelic bowling ball in minature).

Detour ends here.

My dream reader, is me. Which is not the same thing as I write for myself, even though I do. This is me being the recipient of information from the upper eschelon – that part of me which patiently waits, (fingers tapping, eyes rolling at my bumbling through my life) for me to get the message, see the full cinemascope color picture of what I’m supposed to be doing.

I figured it out. It’s like ghost writing. I’m the messenger for my smarter parts, the true driver of this vehicle. It’s me finally finding where the insider trading is happening deep within. Though I have to say, rather than feeling like I’m part of and sitting in on the board meeting, privy to the secrets of my so called life, I admit, it’s more like being a fly on the wall. I’m too busy watching out for the swatter, than truly paying attention. Which means I get only the scraps of a tastier meal.

I was always frustrated about knowing that all the knowledge lies within. That means having to do work. Having to find the path that might lead me to what my specific Nirvana might be. Well, dagnabit, I don’t want to have to work. I want an easy ride. Why is it all the good stuff in life is full of riddles, puzzles, and challenges to which I don’t have the cheat sheet?

So, yes, lovely dream reader, self of myself, sit up, square those shoulders, put that nose to the grindstone, and get hopping. Use the Force, and get out of the way, for criminy sakes, because your in for the ride of your life. Flitting into my mind is the echo of that quote from CONTACT, “wanna take a ride?”

And then, ‘pay it forward.’


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Roz Hill
    Jan 12, 2015 @ 17:59:35

    This is brilliant! I think I can identify with it in a way.
    When I was at school I really didn’t think I was all that bright .
    But my inner self is more clued up than I am! You know people would look at me as though I was dumb and I would be thinking , but you don’t know the truth of me. I have never been all that good at spelling, in conversation I was happy to opt out and be the listener. But that bright spark inside who has time to reorganise the words and doesn’t give shit about spelling is saying write you fool, you can write! Yea?



    • Fims mail
      Jan 12, 2015 @ 19:21:17

      Wish I could respond in my own blog, but that option isn’t working right so wanted to let you know I agreed with and thank you for your comment. My thoughts follow:

      Exactly. Others can’t possibly know the truth of us. We hardly know it, until we realize we’re the catalyst for our own ‘personal Elder,’ who speaks the wisdom we only glimpse, until the moments we follow through on what you said, to ‘write’ and know it’s in good hands.

      On Mon, Jan 12, 2015 at 12:59 PM, Quantum Hermit wrote:




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