The darkness swallows us every night.
Where do we go?
What weird shadow worlds we walk?
What inconvenient insights we gather?
We wake up with a startle and rush into the safety of kitchen light and busy coffee meetings.
And when the night comes back,
We toss and turn and dare not to board the ship of nightmares and miss its next departure.

Or forget the journey after.

Or maybe we wake up with vividness that breaks the night apart in pieces?
And give it as a bone to the mind to gnaw on till  dawn creeps in? And bury after – deep inside the psyche?

We all have done it.
We have done it all.
We’ve spent the third of our days on earth in that unearthly realm.
And have our many ways to look away from its unstable trouble making waters.

Shall we Admit the unreality of it?

We all are Stalkers of the Spirit.
We cross the river of the consciousness  each night.
The privilege (or burden) comes as sure as our belly buttons.

My fellow travelers,
Can we embrace the quest?

Connect the worlds?
Steer our boats?
Step on the scary blackness of the surface and dare to explore and maybe even snorkel?
Bring back the fish and pearls and buckets of fresh feelings?
Be curious and remain aware and grateful for the gifts of our Darkest nights?
Whatever paths we choose for our days
We all were born with magic sandals, which take us back to wisdom of the death. Each night.

At night we walk along,
We are DreamWalkers.

2 thoughts on “DreamWalkers”

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