Lucid dreaming

What I quaintly call “my world” is small, personal and private. It is essentially the same as anyone else’s world, differing only in its details. They are time-bound, these worlds. All we know is what we remember.

Voices from nowhere

“Only to the white man was nature a ‘wilderness,’ and only to him was the land ‘infested’ with ‘wild’ animals and ‘savage’ people. To us it was tame. Earth was bountiful and we were surrounded with the blessings of the Great Mystery.” Chief Luther Standing Bear

The loss of enchantment

We perceive the world through a thicket of memory. I see a bird. I remember its genus, its coloration and perhaps one or two other distinguishments. What I cannot recall is how I felt when I first saw this tiny amazement fly into the embrace of a tree. Now I “see through a glass, darkly,” through the dimming filters of time and memory. In other words, I don’t see.       

As I am

Let’s say I’m going about my business when I’m suddenly flooded with peace. How does the world look now? Still problem-plagued and enemy-ridden?

The world is as I am.

Window cleaning

The more I see myself as deprived or deficient, the more I see myself as I’m not.