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Dreams, are they in our heart? Are they in our mind?

Someone offered to make my dreams come true today. Granted, it was an advertising pitch, but still.

Most of my dreams fall into the category of nightmares and so I’m not going to say that they are in my heart. I’d like to think they come from filtering through my past and family past in the weakened state of sleep. Maybe my dreams also come from my subconscious, or possibly even the collective human unconscious, like myths and archetypes.

My favorite source of all things interesting seems to be “mind”. I’m quite sure that my dreams are in my mind. That bit that can travel far away when my body lies inert in a state of sleep. My dreams are the richest source of writing material for fiction that I’ve come across, without a doubt. Even for drawing, dreams have got to be it, for the most creative, if most frightening symbolism, characters and narrative. You can surely understand then, that when someone offers to make my dreams come true, it throws me into a state of momentary terror.

With reflection, I remember that when speaking of dreams, perhaps people are referring to lofty goals, and even to deeply held desires. Are these in our heart? I’ve been accused of having the emotional life of a toddler, but honestly what seems to be in my heart is very simple most of the time. Pain, terror, bliss, warmth is there, that’s about it, not dreams.

When it comes to the goal or desire type of dream, I’d still have to say these seem to be in the mind. The quiet place that speaks only when noise is absent, only when I’m listening, only when I’m uncritical. And more than what the real source is, most importantly it’s up to me to discipline this source and keep myself useful, keep growing.

What could be more troublesome than the undisciplined mind?

Just ask someone who has nightmares.

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